A Different Take, book 1
by The Almighty Bonk
Summary: Harry is left at Cole's Orphanage by the Dursleys. Snape Mentors/Slytherin!Harry fic. Please R
1. Chapter 1, Abandoned

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, though I wish I did.

Chapter One, Abandoned.

Harry James potter, age 1, sat in a small bassinet on the dining room table of Petunia and Vernon Dursley. The boy was sleeping quietly, but their own son, Dudley, was putting up a fuss for not being the center of attention. He kicked and screamed, but Vernon and Petunia had other things on their mind. They were having a hushed argument over the boy, quite literally. Petunia, on one side of the table, was gesturing wildly at Vernon on the other.

"He can't stay here!" said Petunia in hoarse whisper, not wanting to wake the boy. Dudley's crying had given her enough of a headache to last the rest of the day and she didn't need any more loud noises.

Vernon was in complete agreement on that fact, but on the next, they differed widely.

"We'll drop him off at the orphanage," she said.

Vernon shook his head. Quite frankly, he had been weary of marrying Petunia when he found out what her sister was, and knowing what the boy was made him even more loath to grant that small kindness.

"Float him down the Thames," he snarled. "I don't want any government people showing up and asking funny questions!" He had barked the last word, and Harry awoke with a start.

He stared up at them with wide, green eyes, unblinking. He fidgeted some in his bassinet, but didn't make a peep. He kicked about, rocking the bassinet side to side. Petunia grabbed a hold of it so he didn't go rocking off the side.

"I'll just leave him at the orphanage, Vernon!" she said, still whispering. "I don't have to tell them we're connected."

Vernon, who had had enough of the argument, waved his hand as though trying to swat a bothersome fly away, and stomped out of the room.

Petunia sighed when he was out of earshot. She grabbed a pen off the counter and jotted a quick note down on a scrap of paper.

"Harry James Potter

Born July 31, 1980

NO FAMILY"

She tucked the note in the folds of his blanket, along with a bottle with formula and rushed out to the car. With Harry in the back seat, cooing softly, she started it up and drove away from Little Whinging, and away from Surrey.

The drive to London took less than she expected, and Harry hadn't cried once, for which she was grateful.

She drove to an orphanage that she had heard Marge talking about, Cole's. The place looked more like a prison than anything.

She got out of the car and pulled Harry from the back seat. She pushed open the iron gates and walked quickly up to the front door. She kept her head down, watching her feet more than where she was going.

She made it to the door without incident, and hurriedly set the bassinet on the step before quickly running back. She had made it to the gate when he finally started crying. She stopped, biting her lip rather hard.

She forced herself onward, unaware that she had been seen by the proprietress, who had spotted her from an upstairs window. The woman had only made it to the door as Petunia shut the car door.

"Ma'am!" she called out, looking at the baby at her feet then at the woman who seemed to be crying herself. Without a glance in her direction, the woman in the car drove away very quickly, leaving Mrs. Cole to pick up the baby.

A note fluttered down from his blanket, and she picked it up. "Harry Potter, eh?" she asked the boy, smiling at him.

His watery green eyes opened wide in surprise, and he smiled again. Mrs. Cole laughed at the boy. "What beautiful eyes," she said, picking up the bassinet in her free hand. "Nasty scar, though," She touched her finger to it, and he had gone cross-eyed trying to keep it in view.

She set the boy back in the bassinet in her office, and began filling out a report.

"Harry Potter, age 1, born July 31st." She paused and looked at the boy, turning back to the paper, and scratched down "Abandoned" with more venom then she had intended, gouging the paper.

* * *

AN: Hello all, and welcome to my newest Fic. I hope you enjoy it, and please Review. Now, a few things about my first Fic, The Best laid Plans; first off, I have not abandoned it. I lost the several chapters I had been working on, and I was rather discouraged. I will be starting it again when I can, but not right now. This Chapter has been retrofitted to match later chapters.


	2. Chapter 2, A Request

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, though I wish I did

Chapter Two, A Request.

Professor Albus Dumbledore sat in his office, his fingers steepled together in contemplation. Nearly ten years had passed since he had left Harry on the Dursley's doorstep, and his only request had been ignored in light of petty hatred.

When he had confronted them, things hadn't gone so well. Not that he had imagined them to, really. A small part of him told him that he shouldn't feel bad for causing the argument that would soon dissolve their marriage, and he partially agreed. Still, he did feel bad, and allowing that kind of hatred to rule him was not healthy.

He held a letter in his hands, twiddling it idly. The thick parchment blurred as he spun it between his fingers, waiting.

The melodious sound of gadgets whirring was interrupted by two sharp taps on his door. He set the letter down and laced his fingers back together.

"Enter," he said calmly.

Severus Snape opened the door and walked into the room. "You wanted to see me, Headmaster?" he asked, tilting his head forward by way of greeting. His black hair, oily and slick with fumes from brewing potions, fell into his face and he impatiently swept it back into place.

"Indeed, Severus," said Dumbledore. "I need a favor." When Snape said nothing, Dumbledore motioned to the chair in front of his desk. Snape sat, crossing his leg.

"Professor McGonagall is rather buried under paperwork, and I need you to student letters." Snape's face remained impassive. "I'm sure you remember our policy of delivering letters to children whose parents might not understand, or are otherwise incapable of receiving their letters."

Snape nodded, having seen Lilly receive her letter this way.

"We two students who require their letters to be hand-delivered," said Dumbledore, picking up the letter he had been examining before Snape's arrival and another. "To one Hermione Jean Granger," he said, handing Snape the letter. "And to one harry James Potter."

Snape didn't reach for this one. His face hardened slightly, before he answered, "Surely one of Potter's maids is in charge of collecting the mail?"

Dumbledore's blue eyes flashed. "Severus," he said in a voice that was not to be tested.

Snape bit back a retort and picked up the letter, eyes moving quickly over the address. "Room 8B, Cole's orphanage?" he asked, looking up at Dumbledore, his look of disbelief quickly masked. "Surely there has been a mistake."

"No Severus, there hasn't. Mr. Potter has been residing at Cole's Orphanage since the age of one. Of course, he has been looked after by some of the Order from time to time, to make sure he is not in danger," said Dumbledore, as calm as ever.

Snape looked ready to hurl insults at the old man. When he found the ability to talk without screaming, he said, "An orphanage, Dumbledore? Surely you could not find him a better home?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "He was safe in anonymity, and moving him around too much would have certainly caused a stir."

Snape muttered something about 'codgers' under his breath, but Dumbledore had either not noticed, or decided not to care.

"In any case, you are to deliver these letters to their recipients, and explain their nature. Should you require assistance, I shall be more than happy to send someone along with you. I do not know how Ms. Granger's parents will react," continued Dumbledore.

Snape shook his head. "I can take care of myself," he said in a clipped manner.

"I'm sure you can, Severus. Well, that is all."

Snape stood up and gave a withering look to Dumbledore, who did not look away. Snape walked out of the door and down the spiral staircase. He walked briskly back to his office and sat down.

It was just turning nine in the morning. He looked back to the letters and stuffed them in his pocket.

He didn't trust himself to floo back into Dumbledore's office and give him a piece of his mind. He stood up and grabbed a fistful of floo-powder, tossing it into the fireplace. He stepped into the flames and deliberated for a moment before calling out "Three Broomsticks Inn," and was gone in a flash of green flame

* * *

AN: Dun dun dun! What could come of this!? Since I got such an immediate influx of good news (My inbox was full to bursting!) I decided to give you a very eary update. Well, kiddies, please review. I know the chapters have been kind of short, but I don't want to pad them too much with tedious details. That would get old quick. I'll keep them short until I have enough details to put into the chapter. The next one will probably be longer. The Chapter has been retrofitted to match later chapters.


	3. Chapter 3, The Grangers

Disclaimer: I do now own Harry Potter, even though I wish I did.

Chapter Three, The Grangers.

Snape stepped out of the fireplace in The Three Broomsticks, brushing ash off of his robes. Madam Rosmerta gave him a nod, and he sat down at the bar.

"Fancy a drink, Severus?" she asked, washing out a glass.

Snape nodded. "A Firewhiskey," he said, rubbing his eyes.

"Tough day?" she asked, setting a tumbler of his requested drink down in front of him.

He snorted. "No, but about to get tougher." He chased his words with the burning amber liquid and sighed.

"How's another sound, then?" she asked, fishing out the bottle to fill the glass again.

"No," he waved her off. "One is enough."

She set the bottle back down while he wondered what would happen if he showed up at the Grangers, drunkenly slurring about their daughter being a witch. He'd probably set something on fire to prove his point.

He stood up and dropped five sickles on the counter, three for the drink, and two for a tip.

"Thanks, dear," said Rosmerta

Snape nodded and walked out the door. He stepped out into High Street and pulled out his wand. With a quick flick, his billowing robes became a sharp Muggle suit.

"Quite dashing," said a woman walking past with shopping bags slung on her arm. Snape ignored her. In his opinion, it was too tight. He preferred breathing room.

Without a second thought, he turned on the spot and vanished with a loud crack.

* * *

The next instant, Snape reappeared in a perfectly normal Muggle suburb. He looked around, but no one was around to notice his sudden appearance. He tucked his hair behind his ear, and walked down the sidewalk.

The houses were very similar, bordering on identical, and he had to keep a sharp eye out for the address.

After a minute of walking around, he spotted the house he needed on the other side of the street. As he was crossing, a horn blared, and he had to jump out of the way of a car driving down the road. Muttering about noisy Muggle contraptions, he finally reached the house.

Standing as straight backed and professional as he could, he knocked astutely on the dark red door.

He waited for a few moments, and didn't hear anything inside. Just as he was raising his hand for a second knock, another car pulled into the drive leading to the house.

Snape felt faintly embarrassed as the small family got out of the car. He walked to a short, stocky man who must have been Mr. Granger. "Hello," Snape said, offering his hand. "Mr. Granger, correct?"

"Yes, hello," he said, buoyantly. "What can I do for you?"

Snape studied him and said "I represent a boarding school for the Gifted and Talented, and I wish to speak with your family." He had been practicing that line, and hoped it would work. It seemed to do the trick. Mr. Granger turned to Mrs. Granger who seemed to be doing her best impression of a goldfish. The small girl looked at them both, then Snape.

"Please, do come in!" said Mr. Granger. He followed them into the house, and Mrs. Granger set a kettle on the stove. "So," said Mr. Granger. "Our little Hermione's been accepted to some school for the gifted and talented?" he asked, excitedly.

Snape nodded, and pulled the letter from his inside pocket. "There are some things I must explain beforehand, though." Mrs. Granger came back in with the kettle and poured four cups of tea.

"Please, sit down," she said, handing him a cup on a saucer. Snape sat, setting the letter next to him.

"Now," he said, cautiously, trying to figure out how best to approach the subject of magic. "The school I am speaking of is not a normal school."

Mr. Granger nodded. "Of course, it'll be very upper crust."

Snape shook his head slightly. "No, not exactly." Mr. Granger seemed to have lost a bit of wind.

"Like I said, it is a school for the gifted and talented, but not necessarily the highly intelligent." Mr. Granger turned a very light red, as though he'd been in the sun too long.

"What do you mean, then?" he asked, his tea forgotten. Snape decided there was nothing for it. "It is a school for magic."

The Grangers looked crestfallen. "You're putting us on," said Mr. Granger, gloomily. He did not seem the fighting type, which Snape was thankful for.

"Not in the slightest," said Snape, careful not to tread on nerves.

Snape held out the letter. Mr. Granger, despite his accusations, took the letter, and pulled it open.

"Dear Ms. Granger," he read slowly. "We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

He set the letter down and rubbed his eyes. "Alright, prove it," he said, sighing.

Snape pulled his wand from an inner pocket in his suit jacket. The Grangers studied it intensely. Mr. Granger's tea had gone cold, but with a single tap of Snape's wand, it became to steam again. Then, with a light flick, he accioed a biscuit into his hand, which he dipped into the tea and ate.

"You see, I am not 'putting you on,'" said Snape, after he had chewed and swallowed the biscuit.

The Grangers looked nothing if stunned. Mr. Granger looked at his tea and took a sip. Just the right temperature. Astounded, he asked, "And our Hermione can do this, two?"

Snape nodded. "The school, Hogwarts, will teach her how to control her magic and to cast spells and charms, and how to brew potions."

Hermione had sat through the entire conversation with wide eyes, hardly believing what was happening.

Snape motioned to the envelope. "You will find there a list of school supplies and a ticket to the Hogwarts Express, the train that will take her to school."

Mrs. Granger quickly rifled through its contents, finding the list and ticket.

"Now, you must understand, Wizarding money is different than Muggle money. At the Granger's look of confusion, he said "Muggle is the term for non-magical folk."

Mr. Granger looked like he wanted to comment, but didn't say anything.

"The current standard, as I understand it, is five Pounds to the Galleon," said Snape

Mr. Granger looked to Mrs. Granger with a look of worry.

"The average cost of a book is two galleons," Snape said, and it seemed to calm their fears. "Her wand is a different matter. It will cost about seven galleons."

Mr. Granger did quick math on a scrap of paper. Snape waited while Mr. Granger had a hushed conversation with Mrs. Granger.

When they were done, Snape said "You can buy all of these things in Diagon Alley."

He gave them directions to The Leaky Cauldron. "Do keep in mind that you must be holding hands with your daughter to see it. Ask Tom to let you into the Alley, and he will be more than happy to assist you. If that is all you need." He stood up with a slight bow.

"Er," began Mr. Granger.

Snape raised an eyebrow.

"How do we get to the platform? Nine and three quarters?" asked Mr. Granger, looking at the ticket as though the world had gone daft.

Snape nearly laughed. "Once again, hold hands with your daughter and then walk straight at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. You will pass through unharmed, I assure you." He bowed his head again.

"One more thing," said Mr. Granger. Snape reined together his patience and waited for Mr. Granger to speak. "What do you teach?"

"I am the Potions teacher and head of Slytherin House," said Snape. "I have another appointment, if you'll excuse me."

Mr. Granger looked like he wanted to say something else, so Snape asked, "yes?"

"Couldn't warm me up again?" Mr. Granger asked sheepishly, holding out his tea cup.

* * *

AN: So, here's another chapter. I'll try for a once a day update. This chapter was a little longer, as promised, but not by much. Next one will be even longer.. I guess I just have a bad habit of calling it a chapter where other authors would put a break in and keep writing. Oh well. People like the story well enough, I suppose. C'set la vie and O zoot, il neige. This Chapter has been retrofitted to fit new chapters.


	4. Chapter 4, Cole's

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, though I wish I did.

Chapter Four: Cole's

Severus left the Grangers in a worse mood than he's anticipated. They had been easy to convince, which was good, but they were over eager. He would have almost prefered voilent confrontation. Almost.

As soon as he was out of the door, he did a quick check of the street. Finding it empty, he turned on the spot, and dissaperated to The Leaky Cauldron. Party becauce it was away from prying Muggle eyes, and mainly because he needed another drink.

Not a head turned when Severus appeared in the dingy little pub, though people did not often apparate in. Tom the bar man gave him a little wave as he sat down at the bar.

"Firewhiskey, Severus?" asked Tom. Over the years, Tom had grown used to what people wanted by the expressions on their face.

Snape nodded. Tom poured him a generious measure, and Snape downed it in one.

"Thanks," Snape mutterd. The thought of where he was headed next did nothing to improve his mood.

He dropped the coinage on the table and walked out into the Muggle street. Trying to remember exactly where the orphanage was, he set off down the sidewalk at a quick clip.

"Just get it over and done with, try not to shout," he said to himself. In truth, he almost despised the boy as much as where he had ended up. James Potter's son.

'_And Lilly's_,' said a voice in the back of his head, to which he clung. "Yes, Lilly's son," he said to himself.

He was so deep in thought, he missed a turn and had to double back. Between this and muttering to himself, he had gained a few stares from some of the Muggle's who weren't wrapped up in their own little worlds.

It took fifteen minutes for him to find the orphanage, and another five spent at the gate, willing himself forward. He finally pushed the gate open and walkied in.

The ten-odd steps to the door seemed the longest of his life.

Once he reached it, to buy time, he did an inconspicious breath-freshening charm to remove the smell of alcohol. The Grangers might not have noticed, but any Orphanage proprietress worth her salt could smell alcohol on a person from a mile away. He didn't want to risk it.

He reached forward to knock, but the door was suddenly opened by a short, plump woman. She was well into old age. Iron-grey hair in a fly-away poof over a lined, just as grey face.

"Hello," Snape said as she looked up at him. "My name is Severus Snape; I'm here to speak with Mr. Potter about his education." He said all of this in a clean, crisp voice, standing nearly at attention. He looked the part of a Muggle business man, so he might as well act the part.

The woman, who he assumed was Mrs. Cole, looked up at him, frowning. "All of the children here attend school," she said, shortly.

Snape raised his hand, in case she was about to shut him out. "Mr. Potter has been accepted to a boarding school."

She didn't lose the edge in her voice when she asked "Well who put him down for it, then?" Thinking quickly, Snape said "His parent, shortly before their demise."

Mrs. Cole didn't miss a beat. "Seems an aufully early time to put down a child for higher education."

Snape nodded. "It is, indeed, however this school requires early admission."

Mrs. Cole looked as though she was about to retort with something nasty and cornering when a much younger woman came around the door, behind her.

"Mom, who is this?" she asked, looking up at Snape as well.

"He claims to be one Mr. Snape," she said, not taking her eyes off of him. Instead of further scrutiny, which he expected, the younger woman bustled past her mother and smiled.

"Mr. Snape, do come in, I've been expecting you."

Snape's look of surprise rivalled her mothers, though it dissapeared almost as suddenly as it had come. "Of course," he said, playing by ear. The edlerly woman stood aside to let Snape in.

He looked around as he stepped inside. It was even more drab than the outside had led him to believe.

"Come into my office, won't you?" asked the younger woman.

"Mrs. Cole, I presume?" he asked as he was led into a small office just inside the door.

"Ms. Cole," she corrected him. "Mrs. Cole is my mother. She let me on as the proprietress when she felt she could no-longer take care of the children, given her age." Snape nodded knowledgably.

"She still takes care of minor odds and ends, and do forgive her. She is very protective of the children," added Ms. Cole.

Snape took a seat and nodded again. He didn 't want to speak until he figured out how she knew he was coming.

"Anyway, I recieved your letter the other day. I can say that I'm very excited for Harry to have the chance at an education such as this." She pulled out a letter in normal, Muggle papper and read "Mr. Potter has been accepted to Hogwarts School of the Fine Arts." She smiled up at him. "When I told harry, he was very excited, I can tell you."

'I wonder how excited he will be to learn where he is really going,' Snape thought without humor. A little kid bouncing off the walls was something he didn't need.

He should have had another drink.

"I'm sure he was," he said with a small smile. "May I speak to him?"

She nodded and stood up. "You know, when I heard about your arrival, Ii thought I saw something familair with the headmasters name," she said, leading him up the stairs.

"Oh,' he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Yes, so I looked him up. Seems he's been here before, in person. Talked to a Mr. Tom M. Riddle." Snape blinked, but didn't show any surprise outwardly. However, he had completely stopped breathing.

.

"Yeah," she said, with the calmness of any muggle discussing someone with such a comon sounding name. "Lived in the same room, even," she said, motioning to the door with a tarnished 8 on it."

Snape nodded as though he found the coincedence amusing as opposed to frightening. She laughed. "Maybe it's something about the room," she joked.

Snape laughed, but it was hollow sounding.

She didn't seem to notice and knocked on the door. There was a slight scuffling inside beofre the door opened. A small, pale boy stood there. Even the excited flush in his cheeks could do little to warm his pale face. He looked as though they kept him locked in closet or something.

He backed up to let Snape in. Ms. Cole was about to enter when Snape said, "In private, please." She nodded graciously, and went about other business.

Snape looked about the room. It was sparsely decorated. A few photo's adorned the wall next to his meger bed, and a few interesting rocks sat on his window sill. The light that filtered in was as grey as the building, even though it fast approaching noon.

Snape looked to Harry, whose exited blush had turned into one of enbarassment from having a stranger look over his room.

"Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Potter. My name is Severus Snape."

Harry nodded excitedly. "Ms. Cole said you were coming. Please, call me Harry." Snape was half amused, half amazed at this attempt at maturity. He had expected a miniature James.

"Alright. Now, Harry," Snape said, sitting in a tiny little chair from the reading desk. He felt slightly absurd.

Harry sat down on the bed, though he looked like he'd much rather be juming up and down.

"I have some good news, and some bad news," said Snape. He hadn't expected his arrival to be foreknown.

Harry looked much the same as the Grangers had when he informed them that she would not be going to a school that had excepted her purely on intelligence.

"What's the bad news?" asked harry, dully, as though he had known it was to good to be true.

Snape took a deep breath. The look of hurt on the boy's face was nearly heart-breaking. "You will not be attending Hogwarts school of the Fine Arts."

Harry flinched slightly. His shoulders slumped down and he stared at Snape's feet.

Snape rubbed his eyes tiredly. "You will be attending Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Harry looked up suddenly. His mouth framed the words 'Witchcraft and Wizardry.' "What do you mean?" Harry asked, canting his head to one side.

Snape leaned forward. "You can do things, can't you Harry? Things none of the other children can do?"

Harry shrugged. "I suppose. There was the time I accidently made all the glass in the reptile House at the zoo dissapear." He looked hopeful that this might have been what Snape was looking for, as though his attendance at Hogwarts was determined by how magical they deemed him.

Snape nodded, "That was in the news," he said.

Harry blushed. "They didn't know how it happened." Harry said, as though thinking he would be in trouble.

"I meant our news," Snape said.

Harry raised his eyebrow. "What does that mean?" he asked.

"We have our own news. Wizards, I mean," explained Snape

Harry looked even more saddened by the fact. "D-do I still get to go?" Harry asked.

It was Snape's turn to raise an eyebrow.

"To Hogwarts. I didn't mean to do it. The animals just looked so sad there. And there was a Boa Constricter who hadn't even seen Brazzil!" Harry said all of this very fast, as though if he could explain properly, he wouldn't get in any trouble.

"Of course you still get to go to Hogwarts. You'd know if you were in any trouble." Snape found himself talking in a comforting voice, to James Potter's son of all people.

"However, once you go to Hogwarts, you except that you belong to our world. If you do any more magic once you have your wand," at this, Harry looked as though he might interupt. "You will not be able to do any more magic outside of school, until you graduate."

Harry nodded emphatically. "Yes sir. Do I really get a wand?" Snape nodded.

"Do you have a wand?" Harry asked, looking him over as though he would see it already in his hand. Snape nodded again, and pulled it out.

Harry looked slightly dissapointed as he looked over the thin stick.

"I've seen a magic wand before. That just looks like a bit of wood."

Snape, slightly offended at having his wand called 'a bit of wood,' flicked it at the row of rocks on Harry's window sill, which hovered in the air and rotated in a circle like a ferris wheel. Harry's eyes lit up and he looked back and forth from the wand to the rocks as though trying to see the magic.

Snape gently set the rocks back down with his wand and put it away. "Muggles have a very different view of what Wands look like." Before Harry could ask, he added. "Muggles are people who can't do Magic."

Harry took this in and nodded.

"I'm getting ahead of myself," Snape said, pulling out the second letter. He handed it to Harry, who opened it excitedly and started reading.

Snape watched as Harry's smile grew. He found himself smiling as well. When Harry's smile dropped, so did his.

"What's wrong?" he asked, sounding more like a concerned parent than an aloof teacher.

Harry seemed to pick up on this and blushed. "Well, sir, I haven't got any money for supplies. I don't think the Orphanage would pay, either."

Snape smiled again, the second time in a rather long time. "You've got pleanty of money in our world. Your parents were quite well off." His smile became pained, though he tried to keep the venom out of his voice for the boy's sake.

Harry seemed to stiffen at the mention of his parents. "Sir," he asked, as though unable to continue. "Did you know my parents?"

Snape looked taken aback by the sudden change in topic "Yes, I went to school with them." Harry looked up from his letter. "Did they go to Howarts as well?"

Snape nodded. "Almost every Wizard and Witch in Engalnd goes to Hogwarts."

Harry smiled slightly, then frowned. "H-how did they..."

Snape caught on, and shook his head. "Later," he said. "When I can explain things better."

Harry half-nodded before a thought struck him. "Uh, sir, what do you mean, 'later?'" Snape, who had expected to take Harry shopping in Diagon Alley without actually making the concious decision.

"Well, I teach at Hogwarts," he said, steering away from the idea.

Harry chewed his lip. "Would you take me to get my things?" he asked, voice barely a whisper. Snape realized Dumbledore had probably intended him to, as there would be no one else to do it.

"Sure," said Snape, looking at Harry's eyes. The rest of him was too James-like to make such a promise to.

Snape stood up and motioned for Harry to follow. He walked down the stairs and knocked on Ms. Cole's office door. She opened it and smiled.

"I'm taking Mr. Potter to get his required reading matterial," Snape said. Ms. Cole looked slightly worried, but it passed and she smiled brightly. Harry didn't see Snape's hand twitch breifly

"Have fun, Harry." Harry nodded, and stepped away with Snape, out of the Orphanage.

"Harry," said Snape, as a thought struck him. "How did you know the Boa Consricter had never been to Brazzil?"

Harry smiled and said "He told me. I can talk to snakes, you know. Can't everyone in our world?"

Snape's heart had stopped beating, it seemed. "Not exactly," he said, not showing how frightened he had become. "Shall we go on, then?"

Harry nodded, unaware of how this news had affected Snape.

AN: Looky looky, this chapter is even longer! As you can see, some of the elements came from Tommy's Interview with Dumble's, but for the most part, I tried to keep it origioanl. Next chapter it up tomorrow, as usual. I hope I can hold onto this 'long chapter' streak as long as possible. Maybe I will be able to, mayb I won't. Either way, was it good for you? -Puff puff, hack wheeze- Hasty Banana's people. This Chapter has been retrofitted to fit later chapters.


	5. Chapter 5, Rich and Famous

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, though I wish I did.

Chapter Five: Rich and Famous.

The trip back to The Leaky Cauldron was as uneventful as could be. Aside from the small boy at his side, who looked as though he'd never properly seen London, it was rather dull.

He no longer hated the boy, though he felt a pang of terror and intrigue. Harry lived in the same room as the young boy Riddle had. He spoke to Snakes as Riddle had. Were the rumors true? Was Harry the next Dark Lord?

The terror and intrigue left him as he felt suddenly resigned. If he was, indeed, an evil wizard in the making, then there was little he could do aside from keep a close eye on him.

Even being James' son could not raise the same anger in him as it did before. Lilly's eyes were far too pronounced. So wide and innocent, and full of questions. If he had never seen the boy this up close, he shuddered to think how horrid he might have been to him. Instead he found himself pitying the child.

James potter was no saint, to some people, anyway, but he would have probably made a semi-decent parent, he had to admit. And to have lost Lilly as a mother. That was the hardest for Snape to take. Of course, he had loved her. Once he even thought she might have loved him.

He pushed the painful thought from his head, and looked around. He was about a block away from the Leaky Cauldron, as far as he could tell, but Harry was nowhere to be seen.

He was struck dumb with panic. He started back tracking, looking for the telltale mess of black hair. About a block away, he saw the boy, lost in a crowd of people,looking his best as though he was trying not to cry.

He raced forward, a strange feeling in his chest. 'So this is what it's like to worry about someone else's neck,' he though sourly as he pushed his way through the oncoming Muggles.

By the time he had reached the boy, he was talking fearfully with an old woman. Snape cleared his throat lightly. The act was as much to draw attention as it was to clear the lump in his throat. Lilly's...Harry's eyes were glossy with frightened tears.

"Harry," he said when the old woman and Harry looked up. "Don't leave my side ever again, do you understand?" He tried to say this in his most commanding voice, but he didn't want to seem like he was going to harm the boy. The old woman would probably cause trouble.

Harry nodded, but was beyond words.

Snape cleared his throat again. "Come on," he said. "Try not to get lost."

He placed a hand on Harry's shoulder to comfort him and keep track of him. He laughed inwardly at the absurdity of it all. That morning he'd woken up hating Harry Potter, the Golden Boy, and now he was comforting him.

His stomach twisted as he remembered this boy could be the next Dark Lord, and on top of that, James' son. The combination made him feel exasperated. The two things he hated most in the world, and he had his hand on his shoulder, comforting him.

Dumbledore, had he seen this, would probably be having the largest laughing fit of his life. Trust Dumbledore to never take things seriously.

They stood in front of The Leaky Cauldron a few moments later. Harry watched with interest as Muggles passed without paying any attention at all to the door.

Snape said "Muggle's can't see it, only we can."

Harry smiled. "I love secrets," he said with a mischievous air that reminded him too much of James.

Snape's face hardened. "Let's go, shall we?"Harry nodded and allowed himself to be stared into the pub.

Tom looked up from wiping a glass and nodded to Snape and Harry. "Back so soon, Severus? And whose this you've got with you?"

Snape shook his head at the bartender, and Tom clammed up. If anything, at least he had decorum. He studied the boy and then smiled brightly. He winked conspiratorially to Snape, and Snape frowned,

They made their way to the back of the pub to leave into Diagon Alley, and Snape thought they were home free when a booming voice caught him from behind.

"Professor Snape, good teh see yeh."

Snape turned around and saw the grounds keeper, Hagrid behind him.

Harry turned as well and stared up at the giant of a man. "Who's tha'," asked Hagrid, bending low to inspect Harry. His beetle-black eyes widened in shock. Snape knew he was doomed.

"'Arry Potter. Well I'll be!" The pub went silent.

"Er, hello," said Harry, confusedly. "Thanks, Hagrid," muttered Snape as the pud seemed to explode with commotion. The entirety of it's guests seemed to gravitate towards Harry, shouting excitedly.

Harry, completely bemused, shook hands over and over again. A man in a turban, who Snape identified as 'Professor Quirril' didn't shake Harry's hand, and seemed to want to keep his distance as he spoke.

Snape didn't pay much attention. Now they boy would become an insufferable brat, just like his father. There was too much Lilly in him for there not to be some James, at least.

"Thank you, thank you," Sanpe said to the pub in general. "Really, very busy day ahead of us, if you'll please move!" he had, perhaps unwisely, shouted the last bit, and while it did a good job of clearing the room, it did not paint him in a very good light.

Hagrid, who was tall enough to split the flow of people around him, had stayed in place while Harry was surrounded by everyone had gone back to what they were doing before, although this time with much more din and chatter, Hagrid bent down, and fished out a key.

"Dumbledore said this was fer ya." he said, passing the key to Snape. "Ter get inta," he leaned over and whispered 'Harry's Vault' in Snape's ear, so as not to arouse suspicion as to the nature of the key and make it a target for theft.

Snape nodded, and looked, for the first time, down at Harry. Where he expected a smug look of satisfaction, there was bewilderment and even a bit of fear.

"S-sir," he whispered, looking at everyone. "H-how did they know who I was?"

Hagrid looked as though he were going to speak, but Snape cut him off.

"As I said, I will explain things later." Harry nodded, and looked nothing more than he would like to get out of the mad house into which he had been thrust.

Snape steered him out of the back door, into a small lot behind the pub.

"Here we are," he said, pulling out his wand and tapping a brick, seemingly at random, which caused the wall to melt away into a giant arch.

Harry, who had been looking struck dumb, smiled in amazement at that, and Snape caught his eyes, flitting from shop to shop. Consciously, he made the effort to think of this as a good thing. His own first trip to the alley had been far more subdued.

Before Harry could so much as form the makings of his first question, Snape said "We'll need to go to the bank, first. You'll be needing money if you want to get your things."

Harry nodded, and they set off down the busy street.

It seemed Harry couldn't keep his eyes in one place for more than a second, so Snape warned, "Do be careful not to bump into anyone. We don't want another scene on our hands, do we?"

After that, Harry kept his eyes firmly glued ahead with a stoic expression.

"There will be time for looking about when he go to get your things," Snape said, and Harry relaxed slightly.

They found Gringotts without incident, and Harry marveled at the giant white building, which stuck out as though it had been placed there from some far away land, stuck in the middle of the ragged looking shops on either side.

For more interesting, Harry thought, was the funny little man standing at the entrance. Snape nudged him when he'd started staring. Harry blushed and looked away.

"That," said Snape as they left the foyer, "is a Goblin. Very tricky and incredibly smart. You'd do well to never make a deal with one, as they do not have the highest opinion of wizards in general."

Harry blinked and nodded. "Are there other Goblins in Gringotts?" Snape laughed, which caused Harry to finally look up, spotting the Goblins surrounding him. "Oh," he said, blushing.

Snape led him up to the front desk where a Goblin sat, examining a pile of gold and jewels. Snape cleared his throat although the Goblin had obviously noticed them. The Goblin looked up with a look of feint surprise.

"Hello, Mr. Snape. What can I do for you?"

Snape looked slightly taken aback, and even a little awkward as he did not remember this Goblin's name at all.

"We need to make a withdrawal." the Goblin sat up straighter and looked over the edge of the high desk, spotting Harry.

"Do you have the vault key?"

Snape produced the key, and handed it over. The Goblin examined it through a jewelers lens, as though he suspected forgery. He set the jewelers lens down and nodded once, officiously.

"Very well. Gripphook!" he had called out the last word. Or was it a name? It seemed to be a name, as another Goblin, this once much younger, came sprinting into view.

"Mr. Potter would like to make a withdrawal." Gripphook nodded and motioned for them to follow.

As they piled into the cart, Snape was ambivalent about getting to see the inside of the Potter vault. One on hand, he had always wanted to see the fortune that James had bragged about in school. On the other, he didn't want to feel that kind of jealousy.

The cart gave a sudden lurch, and they were off like a rocket. Harry had his eyes screwed up tight against a nervous stomach, but Snape didn't seem to mind.

The trip took slightly over a minute, so Snape guessed that they were over a mile underground. The cart rolled to a stop and the Goblin got out, holding a lamp aloft so as to better see the keyhole and surrounding area.

Snape stepped out of the cart, and was quickly followed by Harry.

The Goblin unlocked the vault, and a thick fog rolled out. Snape shut his eyes, the fog proving a good excuse, but he could not keep them that way for long. He cracked them open, and sighed inwardly.

The vault was massive. He could have taught his class inside it. The gold inside was only about ankle deep, save for a small pile that would have come up to his waist in the middle.

He handed Harry a small satchel, and the boy showed just enough restraint to dive in and start swimming. Harry had never seen that much money in his life. Harry piled coins inside the satchel until it could fit no more.

Snape was already in the cart at this point, rubbing his eyes as though he could get the image out of his head.

Harry got in next to him while the Goblin locked the vault again. Harry looked concerned, but the look on Snape's face made him hold any questions he might have had.

Snape sighed inwardly once more. '_Rich and famous_,' he thought, bitterly. Any aspirations he had that Harry might end up being decent flew out the window. He was dealing with a Potter now, and all the snide arrogance that came with it.

Harry's eyes adjusted slowly to the light as he exited Gringotts with Snape. He blinked to help them along, and when they had adjusted well enough, he looked up at Snape.

He was surprisingly stony-faced. Harry, not wanting to get on his bad side, decided to be extra careful.

Snape stepped out of the bank, wondering why he hadn't let Hagrid take the boy. He'd have made a much better tour guide, and probably would have put up with Potter's attitude.

"Come on," he said, not looking at the boy. "We haven't got all day to stand around." Harry stared at his shoes and followed Snape.

* * *

AN: Poor Harry! Why's Snape being so flip-floppy? How will Harry react to everything that's happening? Who ate Dumbledore's last Sherbet Lemon? When will I get to the point? Stay tuned! Also, a shout-out! To Misundersnape for taking the time to look at each chapter and give a review. Thanks! If you've got the time, check out Misundersnape's stories! Tootles for now, children. This Chapter has been retrofitted to fit later chapters.


	6. Chapter 6, Tales, Short and Long

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, though I wish I did.

Chapter Six: Tales, Short and Long.

Their first stop was Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. Harry was eager, but kept his emotions in check, for fear of angering Snape further. He didn't even know what he had done in the first place!

Snape waved him inside, muttering something about 'fresh air' and 'headache.' Harry pushed open the door and looked about. The place was stuffy from so many fabrics.

Harry wondered in further, wishing Snape had come in as well, grumpy or not, so that he could be shown what to do.

Just as he was about to walk outside to get Snape to help him, a plump, smiling woman came around a row of what looked like terrycloth.

"Hogwarts, dear?" she asked, sizing him up from behind her glasses. He nodded and she put a comforting hand on his back. "Right this way then, and we'll get you looking proper in no time."

She tapped her wand on a measuring tape and it started measuring on it's own while she busied herself with other things. Just as Harry was growing bored with watching the measuring tape zip back and forth, the door opened again and in came another boy. He had flaming red hair and several freckles across his nose, as though he spent his life outside.

Someone behind the boy, who Harry couldn't see, said something he couldn't hear.

"I'm fine, mum," the boy complained. "I can do it on my own." He huffed and walked further into the shop.

Madam Malkin came back in just then and led the boy next to Harry, bewitching another measuring tape. Madam Malkin checked a sheet of parchment that a quill had been jotting notes on and smiled again, humming to herself as she took it away.

"Hello," said the boy in a tired kind of voice.

"Hi," replied Harry.

"Did you see that man out there, skulking about? The one with the big nose and greasy hair?" Harry thought that was hardly a fair description, though it fit.

"You mean Snape?" The boy's eyes bugged out slightly. "That's professor Snape?" he asked, incredulous.

"Well, yeah," said Harry, uncertain. "I didn't know he was a professor, though."

The other boy nodded. "He teaches potions. My brother's say he's a real grouch."

Harry didn't think he could argue that at the moment. Snape did seem like a real grouch.

"I'm Ron, by the way, Ron Weasley," said the boy.

Harry was about to speak when Madam Malkin walked out of a back room with a large package, all in brown paper.

Harry paid and only just remembered Ron giving his name when he was halfway out the door. "Harry," he supplied, not wanted to cause yet another scene.

Snape was outside when harry returned. "That didn't take long," Snape commented. Harry, not knowing how long it should have taken, merely shrugged.

'_Expect the Golden Boy to get rushed through an order_,' though Snape, walking down the alley. He was so angry that he was striding, and Harry, trying to manage his parcel and keep up at the same time, tripped over one of the many feet bustling about.

He hit the ground, hard. The bundle of robes fell under his stomach, and knocked the wind out of him. His glasses fell off his face and hit the ground with a small clack and the soft sound of breaking glass. Snape had caught the boy's fall out of the corner of his eye, and nearly snarled in exasperation.

"Get up," he hissed. "Before someone else recognizes you."

He lifted Harry up by his upper arm, and Harry winced as Snape's thin fingers dug into his arm.

Snape let go as though he'd been smacked in the face.

'What am I doing?' he thought. 'Taking anger out on a child! I am a better man than that.'

Feeling slightly ill, he bent down and picked Harry's glasses up off the ground, and tapped them with his wand. The cracked lens repaired itself, and he handed them back slowly, as though afraid to get bitten. What came next was much worse.

Harry's face was bright red with embarrassment at both having tripped in front of dozens of people and at once again making Snape mad at him.

"S-s-sorry," he choked out. Harry's cheeks were jumping as his jaw trembled. Snape wished he had an anti-nausea potion on him. He was reminded sharply of himself, cowering under the hateful gaze of his father, trying desperately not to cry for something that wasn't his fault.

"Po-Harry," said Snape in the most even voice he could muster. Using the boy's first name brought his face up to meet Snape's. "Why don't we take a break?" He shrunk down the package of robes after dusting it off and slid it into his pocket.

Harry looked distrustful. '_Once bitten, twice shy_,' thought Snape with that same ill feeling. He handed Harry his glasses, and motioned for Harry to follow him. He was no fan of sweets, but a trip to Fortescue's might make the boy feel better.

"I'll answer any questions you have," said Snape, unwilling as he was to have to explain all of it.

Harry followed him, but there was a certain reluctance that Snape feared might be permanent. '_It will be after I've told him everything_,' thought Snape.

He led them to one of the outdoor tables at Fortescue's and motioned for Harry to sit down.

"Do you want some ice cream?" asked Snape. Harry shook his head vehemently. "I don't like ice creams," he said. It was a lie, he just didn't want to be patronized.

"Well, then do you have any questions?" Expecting something about Voldemort or his fame, Snape was taken aback when Harry asked

"Why do you hate me?" Snape was stunned silent for a few moments, before remembering he was supposed to answer.

"I don't hate you," he said, awkwardly.

Harry didn't say anything, but picked at the rubbery plastic that coated the table.

"I," he sighed, rubbing his eyes. '_God, I could do with a drink,_' he thought, bitterly. '_Today alone will turn me into an alcoholic!_'

"I didn't get on well with your father," he said, slowly.

Harry looked up at him. "Did you hate him?" he asked, green eyes wide.

"I did," Snape admitted. He snorted. "I still do."

Harry knitted his eyebrows. "What did he do?" he asked, shrewdly.

Snape felt the urge to vilify James, but he couldn't do it. "We were always at ends, James and I." He seemed to be talking to himself, but Harry was hanging on every word. "We met for the first time on the Express. We didn't...see eye to eye about our chosen houses."

Harry took then to interrupt. "Houses?" he asked, plainly curious.

Snape mentally thanked him for the tangent, and quickly explained."There are four houses in Hogwarts, which new students are sorted into. Mine was Slytherin, James' and your Mother's was Gryffindor. The other two are Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. You'll learn about it when you go."

Harry nodded. His reluctance was gone, it seemed, so Snape plowed ahead.

"Our rivalry grew. Sometimes it was James and I going at it, but more often than not, it was James and his friends."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Well that's not very fair!"

Snape snorted. He felt like saying 'James wasn't a fair person,' but he didn't want to vilify the child's only father. "That's just how things went," he said with a shrug.

Harry didn't seem to like how things went, but kept silent.

"James liked to show off how much money he had," Snape said, trying not to sound vindictive.

"When I saw all that money, his money, in your vault, it just...opened old wounds, I guess."

Harry blushed slightly. "I'm sorry," he said.

"Don't be sorry for your wealth," Snape admonished. "I shouldn't have treated you that way." Snape shook his head. "I'm sure you have other questions," he said, thankful it appeared neither his nor James' reputations had taken much damage.

He had tried not to sound petty, but at the same time, he tried not to act like a victim. It was a hard balance, but Snape just had a way with words.

At the prompting, Harry nodded. "How come everyone knows who I am? Does that happen to everyone the first time?"

Snape laughed and coughed at the same time, which became a wheezy chuckle. Potion fumes weren't always good on one's lungs. "No, Harry, that doesn't happen to everyone."

Harry blushed again.

"When you were about a year old," Snape said, charging ahead before he could chicken out. "A Dark Wizard came to your mother and fathers house. He..." his breath caught for a moment as his eyes found Harry's wide green ones. "He killed them both," he finished.

Harry looked sad, but didn't interrupt. "Then he tried to kill you, but he couldn't do it."

Harry's eyebrows found his hairline. "Why not?" he asked.

"No one knows," Snape shrugged. "He tried to do it, then he was just gone. No body, not a trace. Just gone."

Harry chewed his lip. "Is he dead?" he asked finally.

Snape shook his head. "I doubt it," he said.

"What was his name?"

Snape pondered the question. Had such a question ever been asked about the Dark Lord? Snape said "I couldn't say it here without causing a screaming panic."

Harry seemed to find the idea slightly funny, but a dark look from Snape stopped the laughter that hadn't even begun.

Snape leaned close and whispered "Lord Voldemort" in Harry's ear.

The sound of the name alone gave Harry the chills. Snape leaned back and Harry shook himself out.

"Let's get our shopping done before Ms. Cole starts to worry," Harry said.

Snape smiled. "We've got awhile before then." Harry raised one eyebrow. "I placed a contentment charm on her, so she would agree to me taking you out. I truly hope she isn't that careless with the rest of the children."

Harry bit back a laugh and stood up. "Where are we going next?" he asked.

Snape motioned to Flourish and Blott's and Harry led the way. "A boy in Madam Malkins said you were a professor. What do you teach?"

"I teach Potions and I am the head of Slytherin house," he informed Harry as they walked into the store.

"Can you show me some extra potions books?" Harry asked. Snape looked taken aback. "Whatever for?" he asked, quirking his eyebrow.

"I don't wanna get on your bad side again," Harry said, half-jokingly. Snape gave another chuckle and led Harry over to the Potions Section, where they lost an hour off their schedule.

AN: This Chapter has been retrofitted to fit later chapters.


	7. Chapter 7, Finishing Up

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, even though I wish I did

Chapter Seven: Finishing Up

Harry and Snape left Flourish and Blott's some time later, Snape's pockets protesting at the amount of shrunken items inside.

He motioned to a shop where Harry could get a trunk, and Harry walked inside eagerly. It didn't take long for Harry to find a suitable trunk.

The wood was a deep yellow, the metal bands were striking red. The inside was covered in green silk which flashed an iridescent looked it over appreciatively. The boy had good taste.

After it was purchased, Harry asked to put his things inside. Snape obliged him, and Harry started packing next to the door of the shop they had just left.

Once Harry was finished (He made sure everything was in perfect) he stood up and smiled at Snape.

"What else do I need, sir?" Snape checked the school-supply list, on which he had crossed out items they had purchased.

He went down the list with his eyes. "Last thing is a wand," he said, folding the list up and checking the time one his pocket watch.

"If it doesn't take too long, we might stop and see about getting you an Owl."

Harry looked up at him with wide eyes. "Owl, sir?"

Snape nodded. "Unless you'd prefer a cat. I will not allow you to purchase a toad." Harry nodded excitedly. He hoped getting a wand would take long.

With Snape behind him, Harry entered Ollivander's Wand Shop.

He blinked and let his eyes get used to the semi-darkness that filled the shop, so unlike the bright and shining street outside.

Harry looked around. It was deadly silent. He could hear his heart beating in his chest.

"Hello," said a willowy voice that belonged to someone he could not see. His heartbeat tripped it's cadence.

Harry took a leap of faith. "Hello," he said back into the dusty shop.

A small, hunched man came out from a back room. His lamp-like eyes lit on Harry's forehead. "Ah, Mr. Potter, I was wondering when I might see you here."

Harry was only vaguely aware of Snape sitting in a small chair and setting his trunk, which was charmed to be as light as a feather, down beside him.

He nodded. "Yeah, I need a wand."

Ollivander nodded back. "Of course, dear boy. Right this way, if you please." He motioned for Harry to follow him back towards the desk in the back of the shop.

Harry followed, albeit reluctantly. Ollivander taped a tape measure with his wand and it sprung to life, just as the one in Madam Malkin's had. This one, though, was not measuring his inseam, but the most unlikely places. Around the top of his head, between each nostril, and from eyebrow to eyebrow. He gave an involuntary yelp as it wiggled into his shoe to measure around his foot.

After he was sure he had been measured from every conceivable angle, even the length of his hair, Ollivander came back with a single care-worn looking box.

"I think this should do it, Mr. Potter." he pulled out the wand inside and handed it to Harry. Instantly, Harry felt a warmth spread up his arm.

"That was fast," commented Snape from his chair, where Harry had all but forgotten him.

Ollivander nodded, seemingly to himself. "Yes, I thought it might be that one," he said. Snape got up and looked at it.

Harry was too wrapped up in staring at the thing to listen. His own wand. His very own magic wand!

"You see, young man, that wand had a brother."

Harry looked up for once. "A brother?" he asked, confused.

Ollivander nodded while Snape stiffened, fearing where the conversation might go.

"Yes, the core of that wand came from a Phoenix, who gave only one other feather for a wand core. The wand in question gave you that scar." He pointed at Harry's forehead.

Harry looked down at the wand in his hand. He almost wanted to feel revulsion, so he could cast it away, but the warmth in his fingers felt to complete as if he had been waiting for it without realizing it.

Snape felt a headache coming on. '_Of course Harry Potter would end up with a shared core to that of Voldemort's wand_,' he chastised himself as though he were going mad. '_It's the most obvious thing in the world._'

Harry paid for his wand, and they were out in the blinding light of the street again. He checked his watch and Harry waited for his ruling.

Snape closed the pocket watch and slid it back into his pant's pocket, remembering then that he was in Muggle clothing. '_Much too late to worry about it now,_' he thought.

"I suppose we can have a poke around," he finally said and Harry broke into a giant grin. He had the patients to walk with Snape to the store, and immediately was in awe over every bird in the place.

A few minuets later, Harry was holding a large cage in which rested a snowy owl. Harry was alternatively beaming at Snape and the owl.

Snape was off in his own world, contemplating all he had learned that day. He was snapped back to reality when Harry spoke.

"I'm sorry, what?" he asked, focusing back in Harry.

"I asked what I should name her," Harry said, holding up the cage with the owl, which was sleeping peacefully.

"I don't know," said Snape. "You can name her whatever you like." Harry decided to get a nice sounding name out of one of his textbooks when he got the chance.

Snape held onto Harry's trunk as they walked back out of Diagon Alley. The Leaky Cauldron erupted back into a frenzy as Harry and Snape walked back in. As they detached themselves from the throng, Harry shook his head.

"That's going to get old," he said.

Snape snorted a laugh. "It already has for me." Harry ducked his head. "Don't worry about it," Snape waved his hand as though to wave away Harry's worry.

* * *

The walk back to the Orphanage was a slow one. Neither Harry nor Snape seemed eager to return.

They talked about Hogwarts, Harry asking excited questions. After answering a question about the individual heads of houses, they found themselves back at the front gates.

"I'll help you get the trink into your room, but then I have to go," said Snape

Harry nodded. "Will I see you again?" He asked.

"Of course. I do teach at Hogwarts." Harry shook his head. "I meant...before then..." He looked away, blushing slightly.

Snape resisted rolling his eyes. "No doubt Dumbledore wishes me to take you to the train station."

He had, of course, no way of knowing if Dumbledore had such designs, but he kind of wished he did. Talking to Harry outside of the usual Teacher-Student set up had been surprisingly fun, despite the things he had learned about the boy.

As they walked up to the front door, Ms. Cole opened it expectantly. "Oh, Harry dear. Good to have you back."

Snape nodded. "Back in one piece, even," he said. Ms. Cole smiled lightly.

"Well, what do we have here?" she asked, bending down to peer into the cage. "An owl? Quite the exotic pet, Harry."

Snape spoke before Harry could say anything. "The school encourages exotic pets such as these. It gives greater scope of the world, as opposed to a simple house-cat or such."

Ms. Cole nodded as though this were as plain as day. "Well, we're about to have dinner, Harry. Get your things put away."

Harry nodded and led Snape back to his room. Snape set down the trunk at the foot of Harry's bed, and Harry set the cage on the small writing desk.

"Thank you, Professor Snape," Harry said. Snape felt odd to be addressed this way before remembering he was, indeed, Harry's professor.

"My pleasure, Mr. Potter," he said, formally. "I must return to Hogwarts, but I'll be back on the first to take you to Kings Cross."

Harry nodded excitedly. Snape eyed him, then gave a light nod before leaving. Harry flopped onto his bed, showing the restraint to stop from jumping up and down on it.

AN: Sorry about the long wait! This chapter was a pain to write. It went through several transitions before I scrapped the whole thing and rewrote it. I'll try to update on a more regular schedule from now on. Also, sorry for the short chapter. My chapters tend to be more bunched up, with longer paragraphs than other stories, where it's just a few lines and then a , maybe they are as long? I don't know. Cheers, folks. This Chapter has been retrofitted to fit later chapters.


	8. Chapter 8, September First

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, no matter how much i wish I did.

Chapter Eight: September First

Snape reappeared in his own fireplace shortly after leaving Harry back at the Orphanage. He dusted himself off, and with a quick flick of his wand, the restraining muggle suit became a nice breathy set of robes once more. He rubbed his neck where the collar had been choking him all day.

With little forethought, he left his office and walked to the Headmaster's. Walking gave him time to think about what he was going to say. Of course, Dumbledore probably knew most of what he was going to tell him, or pretend to know, or pretend it wasn't a big deal. Snape sighed. Maybe it was fruitless.

Before he knew it, he found himself facing the same gargoyle he had been just hours before. The thought struck him as funny. He hadn't even been gone for a day, but it felt like weeks. He shrugged the notion off and announced the password. The gargoyle moved out of the way so that Snape could ride the escalator-like device up to Dumbledore's Office.

He knocked impatiently on the door, and was glad to hear an immediate response. He opened the door and stepped inside. Dumbledore was kid-way between dinner and having a conversation with the portraits around his desk. "If you'd prefer I came back another time," said Snape, and for once his voice didn't hold the icy sarcasm.

"No, my dear boy, come in, make yourself at home. Everything went well, I assume." Snape inclined his head. "One should not assume, Albus." he sat down across from the headmaster.

"The Granger's weren't a problem. The meeting was over and done with in less than an hour," he said, and shook his head as Dumbledore offered him a tin of sweets.

"Very good," said Dumbledore, putting the lid back on the tin, and returning to his meal. "And Mr. Potter?"

Snape stiffened slightly. "I suppose it went well enough."

"Well enough?" asked Dumbledore, looking up from his meal. "I do hope you were kind enough to the boy." Dumbledore knew that may have been wishful thinking, but still hoped.

Snape knew he was balanced on the edge of a stern talking to, but found himself in the curious mood of wanting to poke at the sleeping lion.

"Perhaps you should have sent someone else, if you were expecting Potter to be pampered," Snape said. That did it.

"Severus Sna-" Dumbledore was cut off by the smile Snape could no longer contain. A real, genuine smile.

"It went fine," Snape said, still smiling. "Aside from a few hiccups." His smile slowly dissipated as he took on a look of contemplation.

Dumbledore, still slightly dazed from seeing Snape smile, arched a brow. "Hiccups?" he asked, setting his knife and fork down to peer expectantly at Snape.

"Well," said Snape, leaning back in his chair. "I found Mr. Potter residing in the same room as one Tom Riddle had when you came to speak to him." Dumbledore's eyebrows shot up, but quickly returned.

"Do go on."

Snape was happy to, having never seen Dumbledore give such a reaction. "Next, he told me about his ability to speak with snakes."

Snape felt a gentle poking at the barriers around his mind, and let them drop, knowing Dumbledore would take great interest in such news, and was only confirming it. The presence receeded and snape put the barriers back up.

"A few minor things after that," said Snape. "He was mobbed walking into The Leaky Cauldron.

"The Leaky Cauldron, Severus?" asked Dumbledore, pleasantly.

"Oh, yes, I figured, since there was no one else willing or able, I would take Mr. Potter to get his school things."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled merrily, and Snape wished they'd stop.

"After that, there was a brief period, after seeing the inside of the Potter vault where I became a...slave to my emotions." Dumbledore nodded again, understandingly, and Snape felt a stab of guilt.

Dumbledore seemed to pick up on it, because he asked, "what happened, Severus?"

Snape looked like he wanted to sink through the floor. "I became a little rough with Ha-Mr. Potter." Though he wished Dumbledore would drop the issue, Dumbledore pressed him.

"Mr. Potter tripped, and I..." He couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence, so he simply dropped the barriers around his mind once more, and Dumbledore explored his memory.

Once he was finished, Dumbledore sat straight up in his chair and clasped his hands in front of him. Snape held up his hand to ward off the approaching talking-to.

"We made amends," he said. "I answered his questions, and he seemed to no longer fear me. I was afraid I had become my father." He was speaking to his shoes.

Dumbledore relaxed. "Go on, then."

"Well, nothing of any real note, until we entered Ollivander's." Snape fidgeted in his seat slightly. "It appears the wand that chose Mr. Potter shares a bond with that of the Dark Lord's. Core-brothers, or something."

Dumbledore became very interested in his Phoenix at the moment, and then turned back to Snape. "Well, thank you for telling me, Severus. I'll expect you're hungry, so I'll have one of the house elves send something along, ok?"

Snape stood to leave. "No bother, I can do it myself." He said this with no real venom. He had expected Dumbledore to jump out of his skin, and his response was less than satisfactory.

* * *

Harry awoke on the morning of September first as though someone had dumped cold water on him. He shot out of bed, picked out his best clothes, and sat on the edge of his bed, as though Snape would just walk in the door and whisk him away to Hogwarts any second.

The sun had yet to rise.

He busied himself with reading his school books, namely those in potions. He didn't think he'd be much use at wand waving, which had baffled him from page one. Potions making, though, that was more his style. None of that silly wand waving. Just you, the flames and the fumes. He flipped through expectantly, as though he would find a potion that would make time go by faster.

He looked up and saw the Owl cage on his desk was empty. He had let her out before going to bed, and left the window open in case she returned while he slept.

He had decided to call her Wendelin, after someone he had read about in a school book.

He returned to his potions book, and was momentarily distracted when his owl flew back into the room, using the top of her cage as a perch. "Hello, Wendy," he said, getting up and stroking her head softly. He had never seen an owl so perfectly trained. Not even in the movies. She nibbled on his finger and he laughed softly.

"Hungry, girl?" he asked, fishing out some owl food and pouring a bit in a container for her to eat. She hooted softly in thanks and started eating. Harry looked over her head and outside. The sun was just now breaching the horizon.

He laid back down on the bed after packing his book away exactly where it had been, and closed his eyes. He was hoping he could go back to sleep, but that wasn't the case. He laid awake for hours.

* * *

Snape awoke as early as he could. He tended to sleep in on the first, as it was the last chance he had to. All the potions were finished and stocked, and he would need the rest. Today, though, he sat bolt upright in bed and went thought the motions of waking himself up.

He dressed and went into his office. There he found a stack of pancakes and a note.

_Try to eat something before leaving ~ Albus._

Snape sighed, but ate the pancakes anyway. When he finished he stood up and stretched his back. He checked his watch. Not long till he needed to pick Harry up and drop him off at Kings Cross. It had occurred to him later that Ms. Cole might have been able to do the task, but he found himself wanting to.

He put on his boots and flooed straight away to The Leaky Cauldron. Tom, who was, as always, up bright and early to run the bar waved at him. "Firewhiskey, Severus?" he offered. "No, thank you," said Snape. "Just passing through. Tom nodded and Snape walked out into the chilly London morning. It seemed downright unseasonable.

Snape only realized he was still wearing his robes after he'd been stared at a few times. He didn't care. He found Cole's Orphanage with no problem, and was knocking on the door in no time at all.

Ms. Cole opened it and let him in, taking a minuet to look him over. "Quite the fashion statement," he opined, and Snape pretended not to hear her. "Is Harry ready?"

Ms. Cole nodded. "He's been ready since two in the morning."

Snape bit back a laugh. "After you, Ms. Cole." She led him up the stairs to Harry's room, and knocked on the door.

The time between the knocking and the door being opened was negligible. Harry stood in the doorway, beaming and flushing as though he'd come in first in a marathon.

"All ready?" asked Snape, though a quick look told him there was nothing that needed packing. Harry had gone so far as to move his trunk into the middle of the room, with his owl's cage on top of it.

Harry nodded and Snape walked in. With a hidden flick of his wand, the trunk and cage became as light as a feather, and he gave a pretend grunt as he lifted them off the ground, for Ms. Cole's benefit.

"Have a safe school year, Harry," she said as they walked down the stairs.

* * *

By the time they reached Kings Cross, on foot, the featherlight charm was starting to wear off, and Snape quickly found a trolly to put it on. Harry took the handle, and pushed it through the busy station.

Snape stood next to him the whole time, a guiding hand on his shoulder. "Now, walk into the barrier between platforms nine and ten."

Harry looked up as though Snape had take a leave of absence. "Walk _through_ it?" he asked, dumbfounded.

Snape nodded. "I'll walk with you, if it'll make you feel any safer. Harry gave the smallest of nods. They both started walking towards the wall, and Harry shut his eyes, though their pace was a slow one. When he opened them, after a gentle squeeze from Snape, Harry's jaw dropped.

He was standing in front of the most magnificent train he had ever seen. Steam billowed all around them and several other children were getting on board with the help of their parents. Harry looked over to Snape, who was motioning that Harry get on board. He did so.

Snape passed him the trunk and the cage, both of which were ungainly to say the least. "See you at school, sir!" called Harry.

Snape nodded. "Find yourself a compartment before they fill up too much!"

Harry's head pulled back as he obliged.

AN: Ok, so I'm giving a hand at trying this break for each person talking thing. I dunno if it's for me, but if it looks better, I might keep going with it. Next chapter, the train ride and eventual sorting! Stay tuned!


	9. Chap 9, Gryffin, Badger, Raven and Snake

Discalimer: I do not own Harry Potter, no matter how much I wish I did

Chapter Nine: Griffin, Badger, Raven and Snake

Harry moved his way down, looking for an open compartment. The train gave a sudden lurch, and Harry looked out the window to try and find Snape. He was slightly disappointed to find he had left already.

Harry returned to the task at hand, and wandered down the hallway between compartments. He finally found one not occupied and set about putting his things away. He had just set Wendelin's cage down when the compartment door opened again.

Harry looked around and found himself face to face with the red haired boy from Madam Malkin's.

"Don't mind if I sit in here, do you? Everywhere else is full up."

Harry nodded and the boy sat down.

"I saw you in the robe shop," said the red haired boy, who Harry remembered to be Ron Weasley. Harry nodded. "I don't think I caught your whole name," said Ron, and Harry obliged him.

"You aren't really?" he ask, staring at Harry as though he'd started sprouting tentacles. His eyes landed on Harry's forehead. "You are!" he said excitedly. Harry felt hot under the collar.

"I don't like people gawking," he said with a little more venom then he'd intended. Ron nodded as though he understood, but didn't stop. He was starting to get on Harry's nerves.

"Do you know what house you'll be in?" Harry asked, to change the subject.

"Oh, that's easy," said Ron. "Gryffindor. All my family has been. They might chuck me out if I'm not." He seemed to be dead serious, but Harry snorted.

"Awful stupid reason to chuck someone out, if you ask me," he said, and Ron's ears went slightly scarlet.

"Well, go on. What house are you going to be in?" he asked, scratching his nose. There was some stubborn dirt there.

"I dunno, do I?" said Harry. "I'll find out when I get there." He shrugged as if that settled the manor. Ron shook his head.

"If I'd ended up in Slytherin, I'd just leave." Ron said all of this while staring out the window, as though the thought made him want to jump off the train already.

"Each house has it's good points," said Harry, coolly. Ron was really starting to irk him.

It was Ron's turn to snort. "What kind of good points do Slytherins have? Bunch of cheating cowards."

Harry restrained himself from physically attacking Ron. Really, how much of a prat could you be? "They are loyal, and stick together. They aren't cheaters, they are cunning." He said all of this through tightly clenched teeth. He didn't want to hear a bad word against the house over which his first magical contact presided.

Ron shrugged. "Gryffindors are loyal. Slytherins are in it for their own skins, ain't they." he seemed to be talking as though Harry didn't have a different opinion.

Harry didn't respond, because he didn't trust himself to. Being set in one's ways was one thing, but being judgmental and close-minded was another, and one he simply didn't abide by.

The silence persisted until the lunch trolley arrived. Harry examined everything with interest, while Ron muttered something about having food already. Harry got a bit of everything, and sat down with his haul.

Ron stared dejectedly at his sandwiches, and Harry's better nature got the best of him. He divided up his pile and gave some to Ron, trying to not be the bad guy.

Ron looked on the verge of pushing the candies away, but instead muttered a word of thanks, and dove in.

Harry ate a few Berty Bott's Every Flavor Beans, before deciding the risk was too great, and he gave up. He then moved onto a Chocolate Frog and was caught by surprise when it lept out of it's wrapper and onto the seat. Harry grabbed it quickly, but it didn't jump again.

As he ate the chocolate, a card in the bottom of the wrapper caught his attention and his examined it closely. A wizened old man was staring up at him, scratching the side of his nose, and smiling lightly.

"So this is Albus Dumbledore?" he asked to himself. Ron nodded.

"Yeah, he's the headmaster at Hogwarts. Or didn't you know?"

Harry was beginning to regret sharing his food with the boy. "I knew, thank you," he snipped. "Severus told me."

Ron looked aghast. "Not that bat in Diagon Alley? He was with you?"

Harry looked up from his card sharply. "I'd recommend you find somewhere else to sit, if you know what's good for you," he said cooly. Ron looked taken aback.

Just then a distraction arrived in the form of a bushy-haired girl who opened the compartment door without asking. "Oh, hello. Has either of you two seen a toad? Some boy, Nevile, said he lost his." She looked back and forth at them for a moment, and when neither of them said anything, she prompted, "Are you going to do magic? Let's see then."

I was then Harry realized he'd had his wand out and pointed loosely at Ron. Ron noticed this as well, and collected his things. "I don't think I want to be here any more," he said, as though it were his choice and not Harry's ultimatum.

Ron bustled out in search of a different compartment. "What was that about?" asked the bushy-haired girl, who took his spot. "You'll get in trouble doing that, you know."

Harry shrugged. "He was a bit of a git, really, so I don't think I care much."

The girl nodded knowingly. "I'm Hermione, by the way. Hermione Granger." Harry took her outstretched hand.

"Harry Potter," said Harry, lackluster. Hermione's eyes shot to his scar. "I'd rather you don't stare, and don't prattle on about it," said Harry in a tired voice. Celebrity was growing thin to him.

Hermione looked affronted. "I wasn't going to," she said, waspishly.

"Sorry," said Harry, and he meant it. "Just still angry with that ponce back there." He jerked his thumb over his shoulder in the direction Ron had left. Hermione nodded again.

"What was all that about, anyway?" Hermione asked .

"Seemed to think he was better than everyone. Or, at least, the Slytherins." Hermione nodded. Harry wished she'd stop doing that.

"Well, most people don't like Slytherins. Some really bad witches and wizards came from Slytherin, you know? You-Know-Who did, even." That took Harry off his guard, but he quickly recovered.

"Not all of them are evil, I bet." Of course, he had no real idea. Hermione shrugged.

"I'd best be off, I promised to help Nevile look for his toad." She stood up and left without further ado.

* * *

Harry spent the rest of the ride in contemplative silence.

As the train ride worn on, Harry decided it was time to get dressed, so he pulled his robes from his trunk. As he pulled them over his head, he wondered if he could get some like Snape's that billowed when he walked. It certainly made for an impressive figure.

Night was already set by the time he'd come to the conclusion that it didn't matter about houses and all that. Going to a school for wizards and witches was more than he could have ever hoped for. Well, aside from some parents.

The train slowed to a stop, and a voice told him to leave his things on the train, and that they would be taken to the school for him. He hesitated at leaving Wendelin behind, but decided that she was in safe hands.

He pocketed his wand, which fit much better in the roomy robes pockets than it did in his muggle jeans.

Harry joined the throng outside of his compartment, and followed it outside. It was a blessed relief to stand up and move about, as he hadn't done such since the trolley had arrived. He felt slightly sleepy from inactivity and from having been up since two in the morning, awaiting Snape.

The cold night air woke him up greatly. The sense of excitement in the air was tangible, and Harry found himself caught up in it. His heart felt like a fluttering bird trying to escape his throat as the thought _'I'm going to Wizard School' _kept passing through his mind at high speed.

A familiar voice called over the din. "Firs' years, over 'ere!" called the giant of a man, Hagrid. He wasn't hard to spot, even with how dark it was. He followed the sound of his voice until he nearly collided with him. "All righ' there, 'Arry?" asked Hagrid, and Harry nodded enthusiastically.

Hagrid gave one more bellow of "Firs' years, over 'ere," before leading them away from the other students to what looked to be the shore of a great glassy lake.

"No more 'en four ter a boat, now," Hagrid said as they piled into small wooden boats by the edge of the lake.

Harry found himself with the boy he'd heard about, Nevile Longbottom, another boy named Seamus Finnigan, and the girl Hermione Granger.

Once they were all seated comfortably, the boats started off across the lake on their own. Harry watched the other boats around him. Their occupants looked as excited as he felt. He turned to face forward just as they came out from under a wall of ivy and had his breath stole from him.

It had been taken away by a gasp he could not stop. The sight before him was beyond amazing. A giant castle, each window with a bright light, silhouetted against the dark night sky, so one could only make out it's vast size by the lay-out of pin-prick lights.

The other students began to chatter excitedly to one another, but Harry couldn't move his eyes from the castle.

Soon they were entering a little alcove by the side of the castle, and they exited the boats. "'Ere they are, Professor McGonagall. All safe an' soun'." Harry turned his attention to the woman Hagrid was addressing and thought he would be hard pressed to find a more severe looking woman. Even Mrs. Cole on a bad day wasn't as tight-lipped looking.

She gave a short speech about the houses in turn, during which Harry let his attention wander around the antechamber they were in. He'd heard most of this from Severus during their trip to Diagon Alley. The only new thing was the points system.

She led them into an even bigger room which was more brightly lit, and instructed them to wait until she returned for them. Harry was beginning to feel antsy. He was glad he wasn't alone in his feelings.

A sudden shriek came from one of the girls in the back of the group, as what appeared to be a dozen or so real ghosts floated through the wall behind them. They were having a rather animated discussion.

They finally turned their attention and smiled warmly at the group. "Hello there," said the ghost of a man with a large ruffle around his neck. "Waiting to be sorted, then?" There were a few nervous nods.

"Well," said the ghost, as though sizing them up. "I hope some of you find your way into Gryffendor. I'm the house ghost, you know." This statement was met with many blank looks, and the ghost gave up trying to impress them. He rejoined the group that had continued to talk about someone named Peeves, and McGonagall returned.

"They're ready for you," she said, and motioned them through the wide double doors through which she had come.

The amazement, it seemed, was just getting started. The giant hall was lit only by candles, which floated, unsupported, in the middle of the air above the four long tables. The most remarkable thing, though, was the ceiling, which seemed to not even be there, simply opening up to the stars above.

"It's enchanted to look like the sky," said Hermione in a carrying whisper.

Harry kept himself in the middle of the group. They made their way between the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables. In front of them, McGonagall sat a stool with a ragged hat on it. No one seemed to think this was odd, so he kept his eyes on it. Suddenly a rip near the base opened wide like a mouth, and the hat sang.

_Gather 'round, children_

_And listen to my song_

_Then I shall sort you in_

_I promise to not take long_

_I was made and here I sit_

_For all of you to see_

_My mouth, though just a slit_

_Will tell you where you aught to be_

_Should you be in Griffendor_

_Where live the pure of heart_

_Or perhaps in Ravenclaw_

_If you are dreadf'lly smart_

_Should you go to Slytherin_

_The home of the cunning_

_Or how about Hufflepuff_

_Where hard work is the most stunning_

_I'll sort you right_

_Just you see_

_No need for plight_

_There's no smarter hat than me!_

The tables on either side of them broke into applause, and Harry did the same. He'd certainly never seen a hat do that, but, he suspected, he'd see a great many things he'd never seen before before the year was up.

After the clapping had died down, McGonagall pulled out a scroll of parchment. "When I call your names, please come up and put the sorting hat on your head. Once you have been sorted, please join your house table."

The sorting went slowly, but Harry didn't care. He was having the time of his life, and he didn't want to be center stage. After one Pavarti Patil became a Gryffendor, it was Harry's turn.

There was a sound like a hornets nest being disturbed as he walked up to the stool. The hat fell right down bellow his eyes. He pulled it up over them to look around the crowd. After a brief chat with the sorting hat, it opened the rip above it's brim wide, and shouted out:

AN: Yes, I'm an evil bastard, but I have fun. I guess I'll stick with this format. See you next chapter, kiddies. Also, as for the missed capitalization of names, Harry's is my biggest problem. My shift + H does not like to work, and I have to make a conscious effort to get it right, and it'll throw me outta the loop for a few moments until I get my rhythm back. Anyway, enough prattling. Cheers.


	10. Chapter 10, Sorted

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, no matter how much I wish I did.

Chapter Ten: Sorted

_Quite a mind, young Mr. Potter, _mused the Hat on Harry's head. _A good mix of the house qualities, I see. I must say, I'm quite stumped. _The Sorting hat made a sound of indecision.

'_I want to go where I can do the most good,'_ thought Harry, and felt the hat nod from it's perch on his head.

_Well, I'm no fourtune teller, _said the Hat. _Just a mind reader. You really have no objections to any house? So very odd. I'm so used to students with colorings one way or another._

Harry felt eyes on him from every corner of the Great Hall. _'Not to sound rude, but can we hurry up, please? They're staring." _The Hat snorted out loud.

_In a rush, are we? Well then I guess you had better go to SLYTHERIN! _The Hat shouted this last part verbally and Harry swept it off his head. He didn't know what he was expecting. Applause, like everyone else had gotten, maybe, but not the intesified stares he had now. He looked over at Slytherin table and saw, to his dissapointment, that they seemed loath to welcome him with the same ethusiasm they had the last one to be named a Slytherin, Draco Malfoy.

"If you would, please, Mr. Potter," said McGonagall a bit stiffly. He looked up at her and got off the stool. This seemed to be the trigger. There was that sound again, like a disturbed hornet's nest, only much louder. Even the teachers seemed to be making it. He looked up at Snape as he walked along to the table, but didn't meet his gaze. Snape was not looking at him, but a spot somewhere over his right shoulder.

Harry reached the table, and found no purchase for a seat. He got one at the end of the table, where no one else was to block him out. Not five minutes into being sorted, and already he was feeling the Hat had made a grave mistake. He tried to make himself as small as possible.

Soon after, the sorting finished, and McGonagall carted the Hat away. Dumbledore, instantly recognizable from his picture on the Choclate Frog Card and his possition in the middle of the staff table, stood up and addressed the student body.

"Welcome, first years, welcome back to everyone else!" he proclaimed. There was a slight shifting about, as if people didn't know whether to clap or ask the question Harry had heard buzzing about the table he was currently sitting at. '_How did Potter get into Slytherin?'_

Dumbledore looked around a bit. "I'm sure we're all very hungry from the train ride, so lets tuck in, shall we?" He sat down and Harry looked around for a place to get food from. Instantly, however, food appeared all along the table.

Unfourtunatly for Harry, whose stomach was like an empyty sack, he wasn't able to grab very much. Everytime he reached for something, another Slytherin would snatch it away, even if they already had some, there was some readily availible in front of them already, or they had to go far out of their way to get it.

Harry grabbed a roll, and was only able to get it when everyone else was to busy to notice. He subsided on that because when he went for another, the food dissapeared entierly. Harry simply sighed.

Dumbledore stood up again. "Now that we're all fed and watered," he said with a sweeping gaze and smile. Harry's stomach rumbled, but it went unnoticed save for the few snickers along the table. "I have a few announcements," he continued.

"First off, Mr. Filch has asked me to remind you that a list of banned items are available on his office door. Second, the Forbidden Forest is off limits. Third, the Thrid Floor Corridor is also off limits, to anyone who does not wish to suffer a painful death."

His words were met with renewed murmering. He smiled at them all and said "Now, off to bed I think. Chop-chop!" He waved them out.

Harry's place on the table was, as he soon found out, not the best for him to be. As opposed to the general chaos that were the other three tables, the Slytherins all stood up in double-file lines and marched, military style, led by the Head Boy and Head Girl.

This put Harry at the front of the right hand line. As they exited the double doors, a foot snaked between Harry's and he tripped. His glasses slid off and the line simply went around him. There was a soft crunch as boot sole met glass. Harry gritted his teeth and waited for the line of people to pass and stop stepping on his glasses before he picked them up. They were hopelessly mangled. He scooped up the glass, and hoped someone might now how to fix it.

He blinked slightly as tears welled up in his eyes. It was unfair. They hated him, and it was just plain unfare! He considered sitting there for the rest of the night, before he realized just how childish he would look. His pride wouldn't allow that much of a blow on top of everything else. He scrambled back to his feet and followed the blurry black shapes that were his house mates.

They walked through the dungeons, and Harry nearly lost sight of them. He would have if it weren't for the warm glow of the torches in brackets along the walls. He hadn't realized they'd stopped moving, and walked directly into the person in front of him. "Shove off," said the boy, and elboyed Harry hard in the ribs.

Harry went down again. He waited until they started moving, presumably into the common room, before he got up again and scrambled inside.

Snape was waiting for them, though Harry couldn't tell. His eyesight was rather horrid. He only noticed him when he spoke.

"Second through seventh years, you may go to your dormatories," he said with a bored lilt, as though he'd said it hundreds of times before. There was a general commotion, and Harry was left standing with, from what he could gather, eight or nine other people.

"Sit," directed Snape. They did quickly

"Welcome to Slytherin," said Snape. "As you head of house, it feels my duty to welcome you properly and get you set straight on the ground rules. First and foremost, Mcgonagall told you earlier that your house is your family in Hogwarts. This is more true in Slytherin than any other house. Slytherins are reviled, and so you _must stick together._"

He paused breifly, and looked them over.

"If you find yourself in a possition where you can help a housemate, do so. If you are in a possition where you need help, ask. This does, of course, bar cheating on homework and other asignments. If you feel that you are being treated unfarely, do not hessitate to bring it up with me. I have always got the time to speak with you." Snape said this knowing that many students came from broken homes, and had many problems from it.

"Now, off to bed." He waved them away. "Except for Mr. Potter."

Snape watched them leave and then sat down across from Harry. "Mr. Potter, you're a fool if I've ever seen one. Care to expalin what kind of conversation you had with the Sorting hat to get you placed in the lion den?"

Harry felt anger buble up inside him, but let it pass. "I asked it to place me where I could do the most good," he said, simply.

Snape shook his head. "I think it needs respelled. There is little good you can do here. Most of these students are not going to except you. A lot of their parents were supporters of the Dark Lord."

Harry looked up sharply. "And what have I got to do with that?" he asked, biting back a sneer. "it's not my fault some lunatic can't work a spell and got himself blown up!"

"Be quite," said Snape in the calmest voice he could muster. "They don't see that, and many of them, maybe all of them, never will."

Harry shut his eyes, partly in frustratin, p[artly because his bad vision was giving him a headache. Snape finally seemed to notice they were missing.

"Where did you glasses go?" he asked and Harry pulled them out.

"I tripped and they broke," he said. It wasn't a lie, just an ommision of facts. Snape took them and examined them.

"Hardly damage that could come from hitting the ground."

"Ok, someone might have accidentally stepped on them."

"Some_one?"_ asked Snape.

"Alright, fine! A whole line of people walked on them!" Harry shouted as he lost his temper. His eyes swam with angry tears. What had started out as an amazing dream was quickly turning into a nightmare.

Snape tapped his wand on the destroyed glasses, and they mended, as good as new. He held them out to Harry, who took them with a word of thanks.

"As for your eating habits, I doubt a single roll was enough to sustain you," said Snape.

Harry snorted a bitter laugh. "I would have had more if the others hadn't taken it away every time I tried to get some."

Snape nodded in contemplation. "I will speak to them about it."

Harry looked up, startled. "No!" he said, jumping to his feet, wide eyed. "If you do that, then they'll all think I asked you to, and they'll just pick on me more for being a crybaby!" He said all of this very fast. The last threads of pride he had were tenious at best.

Snape placed a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Sit, and calm down," he said. It was not a sugesstion. Harry sat, but didn't seem ready to calm down.

"Believe me when I say that you are not getting special treatment," said Snape. "I have had to speak to my students many times before about mistreatment. I have a little more power over them than you give me credit."

Harry calmed down slightly. "I don't want to be in Slytherin anymore," he said with a downward look. He pulled his knees up on his chest.

"That is not up to you, Mr. Potter," said Snape. "Though I will speak to Dumbledore about a resorting. Such a thing is unheard of, really, but I think it would probably be best to at laest ask about."

Harry looked hopeful, and Snape shook his head. "I very much doubt you will get a resorting, but I will try. Now, I think it si time you get to bed. You have a full day ahead of you tomorrow. And from now on, you are to address me as Sir or Professor."

Harry nodded. "Yes, Sir," he said, before making his way to the dormatories. Snape watched him go and shook his head. _'Maybe I glorified Slytherin too much,'_ he thought. _'As loath as I am to admit it, he would have been so much better off in Gryffindor.'_

He watched the door to the First Year dormatories shut before getting up to go to bed as well.

As Harry walked into the room, he looked about for an empty bed. He spotted the only open one, which he assumed as his, since it had his trunk at the foot of it. As he crawled under the covers, he heard the person in the bed next to him whisper.

"Why'd you come here?" the boy asked, and Harry only just remebered that he couldn't see him shrug.

"I just asked the sorting hat to put me in the best place for me," he replied, closing his eyes.

"This isn't it," said the voice, and then went silent.

AN: Ok, so Harry has been sorted. I'm trying to make it as true to cannon as possible. The Slytherins are not going to accept him without a lot of hard work, and I do mean a _lot. _Anyway, stay tuned, kiddies.


	11. Chapter 11, The First Morning

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, no matter how much I wish I did.

Chapter Eleven: The First Morning

Harry awoke much earlier than he'd have liked. He was unable to get back to sleep, though, and simply lay in bed, staring at the canopy of his four poster.

When the others began to awake, he pretended to be asleep, hoping that he could feign just long enough to avoid talking with them. Sadly, this wasn't the case.

"Get up, Potter," said the voice from the night before. Harry opened his eyes, and looked towards the owner of the voice.

It was Theodor Nott. The boy had a look of unquestioned loathing on his face. Harry spent a few moments trying to decide it the look suited him. He really couldn't imagine him smiling.

"I'm not going to wake you up every morning," drawled Nott. He walked away from the bed, muttering things like 'Shiftless' and 'No good' under his breath.

Harry got out from under the covers only to find he was still in his robes from the night before. He tried to be discreet as he changed. No one seemed to be paying much attention to him anyway.

As he pulled out fresh robes, he found a stack of silver and green ties, obviously meant to be a part of his uniform. He looked around to the other boys to see how they tied them, because he had never done it.

He gained a rough knowledge from watching Blaise Zabini, who was the only one tieing slow enough for him to watch. The others looked like they put on ties every day of their life, and the movments they used where so sudden that he couldn't see them. It was much like a trick he'd seen where you hold one lace from your trainer in one hand, hold the other lace in the other hand and cross them. If you did it right, you came away with a perfect bow.

Unable to see the knot, but able to feel it, Harry estimated that it was at least presentable.

"Can't even tie a tie, Potter?" came the drawl of Draco Malfoy. He walked over to Harry and undid the knot, lacing it back up and pulling to up so quickly, Harry gagged. "Keep on screwing up like that, and Snape'll have us up by our toes. Come on, then."

And with that, they exited the dormitories to face the castle for the first true time.

As this was going on, Snape was pacing in Dumbledore's office, angry at the man for a reason he hadn't expected. His request, no, plea, for Harry to get resorted had fallen on deaf ears. Worse then deaf, rebuking. He didn't slow his pacing as he recounted the conversation, trying to make sense of what he was being told.

_He had stepped into the Headmaster's office at half past five to ask about the resorting. Dumbledore had been waiting for him, it seemed, because the topic didn't even cause a wavering in the twinkling of the old man's eyes._

_"We need to talk about Mr. Potter's placement in my house, Dumbledore," he said, getting to the quick of the talk. Dumbledore nodded patiently._

_"Go on, Severus," said the old Headmaster. Even before he spoke, Snape saw the futility in his reasoning._

_"I feel that Mr. Potter's welfare is at stake," began Snape. He had yet to take a seat. Dumbledore motioned for him to. He sat, and conintued. "In a House where he is surrounded by the children of Death Eaters, I can hardly assume he will stay safe, even under my watch."_

_Dumbledore seemed to consider this, but said nothing. Snape went on._

_"Hardly had the term started when he was tripped by an older student, and his glasses were mangled after several others trod on them."_

_Dumbledore smiled madeningly. "Surely, Severus, this is not the worse thing that could happen? His glasses should have been easily repaired."_

_Snape met his smile with a cold glare. "And what of the phychological effect of that kind of torment? The boy was raised as a Muggle. Such an act in that world, where that damage is irreparable, would be abhored."_

_Dumbledore nodded again, but didn't speak. Snape was really wishing he would._

_"He was also deniged food at the table at the Start of term Feast, and subsisted on a single roll." This seemed to do the trick, but only just. A small frown crossed Dumbledore's face, but then it was gone. Now he knew what it felt like to be on the outside looking in, as it were, for anyone who had tried to sway him, only to have the emotions tucked away. It was quite infurriating._

_"Either way," continued Snape, "I see no reason why we could not resort Mr. Potter into a house where he would most likely have friends. Where at least he has a chanse of a non-traumatising school career." _

_Dumbledore chose then to speak directly, and with more seeming consideration than he had before. "Firstly, Severus, it is impossible to resort Harry. Sortings are final, even magically binding." Snape rubbed his temples._

_"Furthermore," continued Dumbldore,"I very much doubt that Harry would gain friends now that they all know he belonged to your house first. No matter where he goes, he will always be, to use your charming nickname, a snake."_

_Snape's shoulders slumped. Dumbledore was right. Of course Dumbledore was right. "What will happen to him, Albus?" he asked. Dumbledore straightened up in his chair._

_"Not what you'd expect, I'm sure. When one is in dire straights, one often finds the best quilities of themselves, hiden, as it were."_

_Snape looked down and rubbed his eyes like he hadn't slept in days. "You mean to tell me that you plan to throw Potter to the lion's den, and simply hope he will come out better for the experiance?"_

_"That is exactly it, however I think the term Snake Pit might be better suited in this case." He gave another of those smiles. _

_Snape got out of his chair and paced. Back and forth, back and forth, as though bidden to worry a line in the floor._

He finished his contemplation at the sudden realization that he had nothing to say, and simply left. Dumbledore gave the helpful recomendation of trying the pancakes at breakfast, as the house elves had quite mastered the recipie.

AN: So begins the first day at Hogwarts for young Harry. To the countless couple of you that were ready to skin me alive if I tried to resport Harry, don't worry, it was never my intention. Just a set up for that talk/flashback deal up there. He will remain a Slytherin. Auf Wiedersehen.


	12. Chapter 12, The First Day

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, no matter how much i wish I did.

Chapter Twelve: The First Day

The morning, for Harry, was about as boring as he could imagine. At breakfast, he got to eat a little, as Draco spooned him some eggs and gave him a few pieces of toast. Any time Harry tried to get food, he was locked off, but no one seemed to care if other people gave him food.

He muttered a thanks, and ate. Draco nodded.

Harry felt a little uneasy about it. Draco didn't seem like the type to go out of their way to help. "Erm," Harry started, unable to find a non-rude way of asking.

"Yes?" asked Draco, but whatever Harry had to say was drowned out by the sudden rush of owls entering the Great hall through the windows at the top edge. Harry tried to pick out snowy white from the mass of tawny and brown, but didn't seen Wendy anywhere. He returned to his food.

A large package came to Draco, who opened it immediatly. Inside were all sorts of treats and chocolates. On top of them, was a note. Draco picked it up and scanned it. He half snorted, and passed a portion of it to Harry.

"Welcome to Slytherin," he said as he gave them to a wide-eyed Harry.

"I don't mean to sound ungrateful," began Harry.

Draco waved him off. "It's my dad's doing. He wants to make a good impression." He pulled out the note and tossed it to Harry. Harry picked it up and read;

"_Dear Draco, here is your package of sweets from your mother. Do try to eat them in moderation. In any event, I have heard that Harry Potter has been sorted into Slytherin along with you. Do share some of this with him and make a good impression. I'm sure he isn't feeling at home and could do for some friends._

_-Your Father"_

Harry blinked at the note and felt a blush touch his cheeks. "Thanks," said Harry. All of a sudden, words came tumbling out of his mouth before he could button it up. "You will be my friend, won't you, without your father telling you to be?" He said all of this very fast, and Draco watched him with concern as though he might jump onto the table and start blasting them away like a mad man.

"Came again?" Draco asked.

Harry bit his lip very hard and when he stopped, he said "You will be my friend, won't you? Without your father telling you to be?"

Draco nodded. "Sure, I don't see why not. Now eat up. Snape's coming around with the scheduals."

Harry looked up and saw that Snape was passing down the table, handing out scrolls of parchment to the Slytherins. He turned to his food again, and ate. He opened a single piece of chocolate and gave the rest back to Draco. "Could you hold onto it? I haven't got the room."

Draco nodded as he shoved the candies back into their box.

"Here you are, Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Potter," said Snape as he handed them their scheduals. "Do try to be on time." Harry nodded and opened up the tight roll of parchment.

"Oh, great, Herbology with the Ravenclaw's first thing. Sounds wonderful," he snorted as drank some Pumpkin Juice. Harry shrugged and tugged a silver and greeb scarff, which he had found with the ties, out of his bag.

"It shouldn't be cold enough for that," said Draco, but Harry just shrugged.

"It'll look nice," he said. It was Draco's turn to shrug.

"Well come on then, time's waisting." He stood up as most everyone else did. A few seventh and sixth years stayed behind to make the most of their free period.

Harry slung the scarff around his shoulders, but didn't let it cover his neck. On the whole, he thought, it did look rather dashing. Much to Draco and Harry's surprise, ti was a bit chilly, unseasonably so for this early in september.

"Early fall, eh?" said Nott walking a few paces behind them.

Harry looked around just in time to see a group of Ravenclaws marching up behind them. He spotted a bunch of bushy brown hair in the group and was tempted to wave to the girl from the train, but Draco elbowed him lightly. "Come on, we need to get inside."

Harry followed him into the greenhouse and they spent the hour having to tell the difference between different kinds of fertalizers and what uses they each had and what plants they were best wuited for. Alltogether uneventful.

After taht was Transfiguration with the Hufflepuffs. Harry was a little taken aback to find that McGonagall didn't seem to like him much. After an hour of beinf told just how impossibly hard Transfiguration is, he got up to leave to the class he was looking forward to the most; Potions.

They were waiting at the doors to the class when the Griffendors walked up to them. Ron Weasley was in the front of them. "Well look, if it isn't Potter the Snake," he said, like some kind of insult.

"What of it, Weasley?" said Harry in a voice that went past cool and straight into frozen terretory. Somewhere on his left, Draco snorted.

"Weasley, eh? How did you afford to come here? " Ron turned as red as his hair.

"Keep your nose out of it," said Ron. None of the Gryffendors looked quite ready to back him up, but he didn't seem to care.

Harry snorted in spite of himself. "Come on, Draco, lets not go the money route, I'm sure there are hundreds of other things wrong with him," he said, patting Draco on the back as the door to the classroom swung open. Snape motioned for them to come in, and they entered, seating completely split up, Slytherins on the left, Gryffendors on the right.

Snape walked between the rows of tables and spoke.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making."

Harry felt chills roll down his back.

"As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the oftly simmering cauldron with it's shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory even put a stopper in death - if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

Harry didn't realise he was sitting as ridged as a board until Snape called out his name.

"Potter, what would I get if I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to and in fusion of wormwood?"

Harry looked a little blank for a moment, then thought back. Flourish and Blotts, they had spent at least an hour going over things like that. "Draught of Living Death, sir?"

"Are you asking, or telling?" asked Snape, gazing at him intently.

"Telling, sir." Harry blushed.

"Very good, five points to Slytherin," said Snape. Harry let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"Obviously, fame isn't everything. Now, where could you find a bezoar?"

Harry tried his luck."A well stocked apothacry, sir," he said. Snape scowled.

"No cheek, Mr. Potter, you know better then that, I hope."

Harry looked down, blushing. "The stomach of a goat, sir."

"Very good, another five points to Slytherin, I should think."

Harry found, to his amazment, there was an apreciative murmering coming from the tables with Slytherins sitting at them. Harry beamed, catching on suddenly. No, fame wasn't everything, but if he could prove he was intelligent, that would mean something.

"One last question," he started, but Weasley called out just then.

"Why don't you give any of us a chanse?" asked Weasley just then, and Snape rounded on him.

"Alright, Mr. Weasley, what is the difference between Monkshood and Wolfsbane?" His dark eyes glinted.

Ron blanched. "I don't know," he said.

"Five points from Gryffendor for speaking without raising your hand, and another five for missing the question," Snape said, walking to the front of the room. "For your information, Monkshood and Wolfsvane are the same plant."

The Slytherins snickered as Weasley went an even deeper shade of red.

Snape set them up doing a simple potion; the cure for boils. The class went without incedent, until a boy, who Harry remembered to be Nevile Longbottom, caused his cauldron to boil up suddenly, splashing him with potion. He wailed in terror as large welts and pustules spread over him.

Harry was the only one who didn't laugh as he was escorted out of the room to the Hospital Wing. He felt slightly bad for the boy, but didn't want to take his eyes off his potion, which he wanted to be perfect.

At the end of class, they bottled their potions, and gave them to Snape. He gave Harry's potion a long look, and nodded. Harry found a bounce in his step as he walked out with Draco to lunch.

While they ate, Draco recanted what had happened in Potions class to the snickers of the older Slytherins. One or two fo them even looked kind of impressed with Harry about answering the questions that Snape had asked.

"I didn't learn about Bezoars until sixth year," said one seventh year who Harry didn't know. Harry blushed into his lunch.

The day wore on after that, through Charms and History of Magic. Harry was glad he didn't have too much homework for the first day as he walked down to the dungoens with Draco.

Draco stopped at a blank stretch of wall that was just like every oher bit of wall aside from a small green snake that marked the entrence to the Slytherin Common Room.

"Password is Salazar," said Draco to Harry. "Give it a go."

Harry looked at the snake, and said _"Salazar." _The door opened wide, and he turned to Draco.

Draco was staring at Harry in shock. "What?" asked Harry.

Draco seemed to snap out of it, and shoved Harry through the door. "In," he commanded, and he dragged Harry into the Common room. He looked like he was going to pull Harry into the dorm, when Snape stopped them.

"We're having a House Meeting, and Mr. Potter and yourself need to be here," said Snape.

"But, sir, I've got to talk to Harry!" said Draco, impatiently.

"I'm sure whatever it is, it can wait," said Snape.

"But sir, Harry's a Parslemouth!"

The room, which had been full of lively chatter died at once.

AN: Ok, here's another chapter out for you all. I had the worst case of writers block about it, two. I even had nightmares about it! Either way, I hope you like it well enough, Ta-ta.


	13. Chapter 13, Secrets

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, no matter how much I wish I did.

Chapter Thirteen, Secrets.

The silence was deafening. The only thing Harry could hear was the sound of his own heart beat. The fire crackling and popping didn't even regester. Everyone was just staring at him. He gulped noislessly. He only snapped out of it when Professor Snape spoke, and the students turned their attention on him.

"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy, for that. I suggest you do not take to writing stories. You are not the most convincing fitionalist." He turned back to the class, hoping Malfoy wouldn't bring it up again. He knew what the boy was, but he didn't want everyone knowing. He opened his mouth to speak, but Draco cut him off.

"He is, sir. He spoke to the snake on the entrence to the Common Room!" Draco was practically bouncing up and down.

Harry flushed, and looked away. "I just told it the password," he mumbled.

Draco shook his head. "No, you dolt, you said whatever it was in Snake Language!"

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Did I? Just sounded like english to me." He resisted telling Draco to get his ears checked. He was his only friend, but all this attention was worse than when he had gone through the Leaky Cauldron. They were just staring. Some looked like they were in shock, others looked happy, and a few looked jealous.

"Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Potter, sit down. _Now," _said Snape. Harry and Draco sat immediatly. Snape looked possitively livid. If he didn't tell the truth now, there would be rummours, and Harry's school carreer would be worse than it was. He sighed resignedly. Everyone was looking at him now. "Mr. Potter is indeed a Parlsemouth." There was an instant outbreak of chatter.

"_However,_" Snape continued to quite them. "That does not leave this room!" The students nodded.

"Now, onto the topic at hand," said snape, wondering if it was really even nessicary to tell the students to lay off Harry now. "I have observed that Mr. Potter is being treated unfairly by some of you. I will not tollerate this. I have spoken to all of you at some time or another about house unity, and the rules do not apply to one student simply because of herritage." There was another outbreak of murmering, which Snape let die out on it's own.

"Now, are there any questions for Mr. Potter?" Snape asked, looking around at the large number of raised hands. "Mr. Nott?" he asked, choosing the weedy looking first year.

Theodor stood up. "Er, well, Sir, I was wondering if Harry could show us. You know, about being a parslemouth and all." He blushed slightly, but was slightly heartend when a number of hands went down.

"I don't suppose any of you have a snake handy?" sneered Snape.

"Well, Draco said Harry used Parsletounge to open the common room. Maybe it doesn't have to be a realy snake, sir," Nott replied.

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose. "Mr. Potter, would you kindly strike up a conversation with one of the ornamental snakes in the room, so we can quell the growing murmurs?"

Harry nodded, and swallowed hard. They were staring again. There were many snake-like things in the room. Wall fixtures, torch holders and the like. Harry chose a tapstry of a snake, as it looked the most life-like.

"_Hello," _he said, timidly. The snake in the tapastry looked up at him and, if it was even possible, seemed to raise the parts of it's forehead that could be considered eyebrows.

"_You speak it?"_ said the Snake, studying Harry.

_"Well, they say I do, so I guess, yeah," _replied Harry. The hair on the back of his neck stood up. Now that he was making an effort at it, he could distinguish what sounded like English to him, and the strangled hissing sounds everyone else was hearing. It was highly unnerving.

Harry turned back to the room and shrugged his shoulders as if to say 'There you go' There was more whispering, and Harry felt disquited. He took his seat next to Draco, who looked like a boy who stick his finger in a pie and pulled out a plum.

"Any other questions?" asked Snape, who had a look of slight surprise about him, which was only accented by his slightly risen eyebrows.

Harry was thankful there weren't, and felt slightly ill as they went to bed. Everyone seemed to be watching him expectantly after he had spoken to the snake. Like they were waiting for him to do...well, he didn't know what.

That night he dreamed of long snakes, weaving around him, constricting him, choking the life out of him.

He awoke with a start to find one part of his dream was true. He couldn't move.

AN: Ok, bit of a short one, and the next chapter will probably be shorter, but after that it'll be smooth sailing. Also, a bit of a warning. If you're easily upset, just skip the next chapter and pretend he was caught up in his sheets. That is all. Cheerio.


	14. Chapter 14, Torment

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, no matter how much I wish I did

Chapter Fourteen, Torment

Harry wormed this way and that, trying to free himself. When he couldn't, panic set in. He tried to call out, but found he was gagged, or so it seemed. He couldn't open or close his mouth. The most he could muter was a muffled kind of half-shout from his throat.

"Don't bother, Potter. No one is coming to save you," said a voice somewhere to his direct right. Harry felt the breeze of the persons breath on his face, and tried to squirm away. He felt like he was bound with rope, but he didn't feel any.

Harry felt tears well up in his eyes. There was nothing he could do to stop them as they spilled down his cheeks. In the darkness he couldn't make out his surroundings, but knew he must still be in bed. He strained again and his muffled screams turned to sobs.

"Somewhere a little more private, I think," said the voice. Harry felt a blow to the side of the head, then nothing.

* * *

When he woke up, he found he was free of what was binding him, but the darkness made him wary to move. His head throbbed and something, warm and thick, dripped down from behind his ear. He finally sat up, and his vision swam, or would have, if he could see.

He was on a cold stone floor, but where, he didn't know. "H-help," he choked out. His voice was horse from trying to scream, and he couldn't manage more than a light whisper.

"There is no help for you, Potter," spat the voice, and suddenly lights flared. Momentarily blinded, Harry shielded his eyes. His stomach lurched in time with the throbbing in his head. He ached from laying on the floor.

Once his eyes got used to the light, Harry realized he still couldn't see. He didn't have his glasses. From what he could tell, he was in a small room, probably still in the dungeons considering the cold. In front of him, wand aloft, was a figure, but Harry couldn't see who.

"W-what do you want?" asked Harry, more afraid than he'd ever been.

Laughed filled the small room, and Harry's headache went up a few notches. "You think you can come in here and just take over, do you?" asked the figure.

Harry tried shaking his head, but the world didn't want to stay in one place as it was, "W-what do you mean?" Harry asked.

Before he could even register the movement, a foot made contact with his stomach. The wind was knocked out of him, and he collapsed.

"Shut up!" screamed the voice. Harry couldn't have spoken if he tried. He gasped for air.

"Parslemouth Potter, king of the Slytherins," sneered the figure. "Fancy yourself becoming the next Dark Lord?" There was a manic lilt to the voice now. Whoever it was, they were seriously unhinged.

Harry still hadn't found his breath, and couldn't reply. He was choking on air, and he couldn't stop crying again. He felt a tightness on the collar of his pajamas as he was dragged upward. He found his breath just one second before being slammed into the wall. His vision swam again as the back of his head met the cold, unyielding stone.

"P-p-please, just l-let me go," said Harry, who got his first look at the person holding him to the wall. It was a seventh year, but Harry couldn't place a name, even if he wanted to.

The boy laughed and spat in his face. "P-p-please, just l-let me go," he teased, maliciously."You aren't leaving here, Potter."

Harry was shivering for fear and cold. Blood was still dripping from his head wound, and the kick had fractured ribs. His breath was coming in short gasps.

Suddenly, he was airborne for a few seconds before colliding with the far wall. He crumbled, shaking.

"Think you can waltz in here, talk to a few snakes and just take over?" screamed the boy as he kicked Harry over and over.

In one last ditch effort, Harry clung to the boy's leg, and bit down as hard as he could muster. The boy screamed as Harry bit harder, breaking skin. He would have taken a chunk out of him if the boy hadn't tripped over. He didn't get up.

Harry, breathing hard, got up shakily. There was a small pool of blood growing, like a halo, around the boy's head.

Harry edged away from him along the wall until he found the door out. He was thankful beyond all belief to find it unlocked.

He wrenched the door open and flung himself from the room. If he could have taken one of the torches, he could have, but he couldn't reach them. It was pitch dark, but Harry didn't care. He ran.

"Help!" he shouted, ignoring the pain on all sides. "Somebody! Help me!" He was near to tears again. With shocking abruptness, he collided with a wall, and passed out again.

He awoke briefly when he was jostled slightly. He was being lifted. "'Zer?" he said. He had been trying for 'Who's there' but had failed. He was now in the air, supported by someone and held against their chest.

"Don't worry, Harry," they said, consolingly. Their voice was familiar.

"Sev'rus," Harry muttered, before falling back into the blackness of sleep.

AN: Here's another chapter for you all. Kind of an abrupt about face, yeah, but it all has a part to play, so don't worry. It's not completely mindless abuse. At least not on my part. Also, I don't know however many of you missed it, but I gave Hermione her own happy ending of sorts. Chapter Twelve, she isn't mentioned by name, though. She won't be a serious part in this fanfic. Just saying. Ta-ta for now.


	15. Chapter 15, Hidden

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, no matter how much I wish I did.

Chapter Fifteen, Hidden

When Harry awoke next, he was in a bed that was not his own. He cracked his eyes, and hissed in pain at the sudden onslaught of light. He clenched them tight again and rolled over, burying his face in the pillow. He noticed it smelled of bleach or something like it before the stinging pain came filtering through his tired mind.

He rolled back, and winced again. There was nowhere he could go to be comfortable.

"Ahh, Mr. Potter, awake at last, I see," said a cheery voice.

Harry didn't want to risk opening his eyes again, so he simply asked "Where am I?" to the blinding room.

"The Hospital Wing, of course," said the voice. "I should expect so, after all that you went through. Professor Snape wanted you to go to Saint Mungo's, but there was nothing wrong that I couldn't fix."

Memories, obscured by a hazy fog, wafted back to Harry. Pain. Terror. Helplessness. Ignoring the pain at present, Harry rolled onto his side and curled into a tight ball, from which he hoped to never be moved. He pulled the covers tight around him. He never wanted to feel that ever again. He could just stay here, and be safe.

A single tear fell from his tightly clenched eye and lit on the stark white pillow underneath him, staining it gray.

"Severus," said Madam Pomfrey said in a relieved sort of voice. "Yes, the boy is over here," she said, and two sets of footsteps made their way to where Harry lay, immobile.

"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey, said Severus in his most dignified voice. Never, in all his years, had such a thing happened. House infighting was nothing new, but to be abducted and tortured...Snape was torn in two. On one hand, he would have dearly loved getting his hands on the boy who had done this to Harry. On the other, he was glad Dumbledore had stopped him from reaching him.

Snape sat down next to Harry and watched him for a moment. He was inverting. That wasn't good.

"Harry," he said, surprised at himself. The tenderness in his voice was clear and real. He reached out and placed a hand on the boys shoulder. Harry flinched. "Harry, listen to me," he said, trying to be stern and comforting at the same time. Harry's head twitched to the side slightly, showing he was listening but not much else.

"You can't do this," said Snape. "You have to-" Harry cut him off

"Why not?" he demanded miserably. "Nobody wants me here. I don't belong here. I'm just something to gawk at." Harry sputtered into racking sobs.

Snape's hand clenched. He had seen this boy before. Bruised, battered, never going to leave bed. Himself. He couldn't speak for a moment. Clearing his throat didn't help the lump that had formed.

"Please, Harry, don't do this. This isn't what you need." He was trying his best to be strong for the boy.

"Then what do I need?" asked Harry with real anger in his voice. This Harry was so different from the Harry that had been sorted into his house, the Harry he had taken to Diagon Alley, the Harry at the Orphanage.

"You need to be strong," said Snape.

Harry pulled tighter into himself before finally relaxing. Snape's hand stayed where it was. What he wouldn't have given for even just a comforting touch when he was like this.

"Everyone knows me," said Harry in a hopeless voice. "I don't know anybody."

"Then change that. The first thing you need to do is to let them actually know you. Don't let yourself just be the Boy Who Lived. Let them know that Harry exists underneath Harry Potter."

"How am I supposed to do that?" asked Harry. "They don't want to see me. They just want an idol like in the Leaky Cauldron, or a villain, like here."

Snape smiled softly. "Funny thing about school aged children," he said, sitting up straight. "They care much more about what they see than what they hear. Walking out of this place, head held high, will be far more impressive than old stories."

Even as Snape watched, a smile spread across Harry's face.

"When can I get out of here, then?" Harry asked.

"I spoke with Madam Pomfrey about that. You will need to take a few more potions, but you will be out by the end of the day. And please, try to have patients. There is a very fine difference between bravery and idiocy. I don't want you becoming a Gryffindor, now."

Harry snickered at that, and stretched out again. "Don't worry, Professor, no hope of that."

Snape patted his hair. "I'm glad to hear it."

Harry looked up at Snape. "Sir?" he asked, almost cautiously. "Who was that boy? I don't remember his name."

Snape's face clouded over. "Gregory Rowle, a sixth year. Don't worry about him, he has been expelled."

Harry nodded. "Sir, if it's alright with you, I'd like to get some sleep."

Snape nodded and stood up. "Rest well, Mr. Potter. You will have homework waiting for you in the Common Room, I'm sure."

Harry scowled, then thought o something. "H-has anyone been to visit, sir?"

Snape masked his amused expression, before saying, "Mr.'s Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, and Nott have all been to see you at some time today."

Harry smiled. They actually did care.

"They brought you some sweets, but I had to confiscate them or the time being. Chocolate works against some of the potions you're having to take, you see," said Snape, and Harry huffed.

"If you care that much, the sweets will be waiting for you in your dormitory," said Snape, shaking his head. Children and their candy.

"Sleep well, Harry."

"G'night, sir."

Harry rolled over, ignoring the stabbing pains in his side.

AN: New chapter, hope you like it.


	16. Chapter 16, Repercussions

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, no matter how much I wish I did.

Chapter Sixteen: Repercussions

Harry bolted awake from another nightmare. His fingers tingled with the last vestiges of adrenaline in his system, and he kept his eyes wide open for the snakes that chased him in his dream. He hadn't been asleep for an hour yet, that much he could tell by the light coming in the windows.

Madam Pomfrey bustled out of her office. "Awake, I see?" she asked rhetorically, setting a tray of several potions down next to the bed. "Come on then," she said, helping him into a sitting position. He was still shaking as he drank the first potion down.

He stopped shaking almost as soon as it touched his lips. "Feel better?" madam Pomfrey asked with a small smile. Harry nodded. "_Much," _he said, relaxing. Madam Pomfrey, however, looked the opposite of relaxed.

"Come again, dear?" she asked, visibly stirred.

"_I said I feel much better," _Harry said, worry etched into his brow. "_What's wrong?"_

Madam Pomfrey shot straight out of her seat. "Sit tight while I go and fetch Severus," she said, hurrying out of the room as though she expected Harry to chase after her or something.

Harry felt utterly bemused, which quickly slipped away into boredom. He entertained himself by turning a glass of potion this way and that. The liquid inside was a kind of metallic, opaque silver, but light shined through it easily and left stunning displays of refraction on the tray beneath it.

Harry was just growing bored of his little game (Trying to see shapes in the refracted light) when the doors opened again. He looked up and smiled briefly. Snape was there, but he didn't look to happy. Harry's smile turned to a frown almost immediately.

"A word alone, if you don't mind, Madam," said Snape, curtly drawing the curtains around Harry and himself. "What have you been doing now?" asked Snape in a very exasperated voice. "Madam Pomfrey was nearly screaming. Something about an exorcist."

Harry arched an eyebrow. "_I haven't been doing anything sir,"_ he said, and, to his amazement, Snape collapsed into a chair, head in his hands.

_"What's wrong, sir?" _Harry asked, but Snape held up a hand to silence him.

"Keep quite or Madam Pomfrey really will call for an exorcist," Snape said, rubbing his eyes vigorously. "I take it you don't know you're speaking Parsletounge?" asked Snape, and Harry's eyebrow arched steeply. He opened his mouth to speak, but thought better of it and instead shook his head.

Even as he did so, he became very light headed, and the shivers began again.

Snape looked at him sharply. "Did you finish taking your potions?"

"No, sir," said Harry. It was Snape's turn to raise an eyebrow.

"Now you're speaking English. Kindly find one language and stick to it, if you please," said Snape, voicing the epitome of tired. "Where you shaking before you took the potions?" he asked.

Harry nodded. "It was just the one potion, though," he said, nodding to the empty glass. Snape lifted the glass and held it under his beak-like nose for a brief moment. "That explains the lack of shaking, but not the Parsletounge."

Harry again looked bewildered. "W-w-what d-d-does?" he asked, his shaking increasing to the point of a stutter.

"It was a coping potion. You're obviously traumatized," said Snape in an offhand manor, trying to be aloof so he could keep the emotion out of his voice. "The next few potions would have put you to sleep to aid it, but as you've stayed awake this long, it's already passed through your system. Your symptoms are coming back.

"W-w-w-why w-w-wasn't I sh-sh..." Harry couldn't complete his question, partly due to the stutter and partly to the embarrassment from it.

"Why weren't you shaking before?" Snape asked for him. Harry nodded jerkily. Snape gave a half shrug. "I'm not a psychologist, but it might be a late coping mechanism. Did you dream about anything while you were asleep?"

Harry nodded in that jerky way again, as though trying to pop his neck. In fact, as one particularly nasty tremor rattled his body, his back popped like machine gun fire. "S-s-s-snakes," he answered as best he could.

Snape nodded and stood up. "I'll be back momentarily." He walked through the curtain, leaving Harry to jitter in his bed like he was being electrocuted.

Snape returned after a while with a very shaken looking Madam Pomfrey. "And I trust you'll be keeping quite, Madam Pomfrey?" Snape asked, looking over his shoulder.

"To the grave, Severus," she responded. "Here you are, then. It should be spelled right into his stomach if you want him to take any of it in that state." She handed Snape a small vial and removed herself to her office, where, no doubt, there was a bottle of firewhiskey with her name on it.

Snape inspected the vial and pulled out his wand. Harry pulled himself back against the wall, away from Snape.

"It's just a muscle relaxer," said Snape, answering Harry's unasked question. Harry relaxed, or appeared to as he continued to shake. Snape muttered something and the liquid in the vial drained away, as if there was a hole in the bottom. Harry felt the shaking lessen, then stop.

"Come on, then," said Snape. "It will only last a few hours and I don't want to give you another dose. It's not all that good for you."

Harry got out of the hospital bed and swayed on the spot. It felt like every part of his body had gone to sleep and was only just starting to wake up, pins and needles and all.

"Here," said Snape, offering Harry a cane. "I don't think you'll do to well on crutches. We need to go see the Headmaster."

Harry, using the cane to support himself, limped after Snape, continually shaking himself out. The feeling was too much like having ones foot go to sleep to stop the involuntary action. Snape watched him carefully to make sure they were harmless shakes before leading Harry on.

A thought struck Snape as they made a bee-line to the Stone gargoyle that concealed the entrance to the headmaster's office. It was lunch time, and perhaps he wouldn't be in. Snape paused and thought about going to the great hall to see, but Harry took that moment to trip over his feet trying to stop. Snape helped him up and decided that trying the office first would be for the best.

Snape helped Harry the rest of the way to Dumbledore's office entrance and realized he didn't know the password. "Err, lemon sherbet?" he said to the gargoyle, who remained impassive. "Damn."

"Sir?" asked Harry, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, Dumbledore's office requires a password for entry," Snape explained. "It's usually some kind of sweet. The man loves candy more than most children. Can you think of any?"

"Liquorish wand?" guessed Harry out loud, and the Gargoyle moved aside.

"Lucky guess," said Snape in a kind way. Harry ducked his head to hide his grin. "Even more lucky, the stairs move, so you don't have to worry about climbing them," continued Snape, helping Harry onto a step and following after.

They both stood at the landing, Harry leaning heavily on the cane. The pins and needles had left, and in their stead was total numbness. It made his head swim, and he blinked slowly as though fighting sleep.

Snape knocked on the door, hoping he didn't have to drag the boy all over the castle to find the old Headmaster.

"Enter," came the reply from inside. Snape opened the door and helped Harry inside.

"Severus," said Dumbledore, smiling. "And Mr. Potter. What a surprise."

"Hi," offered Harry, whose mouth was going numb.

Dumbledore motioned for them to sit down, and they did.

"To what can I owe this visit?" Dumbledore asked, setting aside his meal.

"Mr. Potter seems to be having an adverse reaction to the Coping Drought," intoned Snape. "Shortly after administration, he began speaking in Parsletongue."

"Is that so?" asked Dumbledore, quirking his eyebrow. "Has anything else happened? I believe Mr. Potter has not exhibited normal symptoms associated with trauma?"

"Actually, before taking the potion, but after a brief nap, Mr. Potter began to shake violently," said Snape. Harry watched them talk, unwilling to interrupt.

Dumbledore seemed to consider this before getting up and walking around the table. He knelled in front of Harry and examined him. He pulled out his wand and muttered "_Lumos"_ then passed it in front of his eyes, back and forth.

"His eyes are not reacting to the light," said Dumbledore in a thoughtful voice.

"He was administered a Muscle relaxant to make the trip here, as his shaking returned. He was not given the follow-up sleeping potion, and his system burned through the Coping Drought. I feared his shaking might cause damage to his person," said Snape, watching Dumbledore.

"Of course," said Dumbledore perfunctorily. "Did you check his reflexes before giving him the potion?"

"I must say, I didn't consider it. His shaking was rather extreme."

Dumbledore nodded and stood up. "What about his speaking in Parsletongue? How did you find out? Surely you did not spend your entire time next to the boy's bedside, Severus?" The old man's eyes twinkled like little lights.

"_I would have,_" thought Snape. "I was informed by a rather distraught Madam Pomfrey," he said.

Dumbledore's eyes stopped twinkling. "Oh dear," he said, the wind out of his sails. "Is she alright?"

"She seems to have recovered well," said Snape. "In any case, we keep going off on tangents. Do you know why he would react in such a way to a Coping Drought?"

Dumbledore sat behind his desk once more and steepled his fingers. "He wasn't shaking before the nap, you say?"

Harry took then to interject. "Er, sir," he said, not knowing if he was allowed to speak. In most cases when the adults talked, it was only the adults talking. When Dumbledore looked over to him and smiled, Harry continued. "I felt fine before I took the nap, sir. When I woke up, I was shaking."

"Did you dream about anything that you can remember?" asked Dumbledore.

Harry nodded. "Snakes. I dreamed about them before, just before the...er..." He stopped talking, looking down. He didn't feel like talking about it.

"The incident," said Dumbledore lightly. Harry nodded to his shoes.

"Harry, would you please tell me about your school life?" asked Dumbledore, leaning back in his chair.

Harry looked up. "What do you mean, sir?"

"Well, how do you feel about school? How did you feel about school? Why, if you do, do you feel differently than you did before?" Dumbledore smiled under his half-moon spectacles.

"Oh, er, well." Harry hadn't really ever thought about it. He just went day to day. "When I started," he said after he thought about it for a few seconds. "I was really happy, you know, 'cuz the Sorting Hat told me it would put me where I could do the most good. You know, do my best and all that."

Harry blushed and, if possible, looked even further than down. "Then I felt really sad and angry, because no one liked me," he told his stomach. The numbness had subsided and left him feeling alright, if a bit loose and limp like cooked noodles.

"But then," he continued, looking up, noticing Dumbledore still had his undivided attention. "Draco and Blaise and Theodor helped me out on my first day, so I guess I felt better then, because I had friends." He twiddled his thumbs in his lap.

Dumbledore nodded. "And how do you feel now?" he asked.

Harry chewed his lip. "I-I really don't know, sir. I just..." He trailed off, and pulled his knees up to his chest in the chair. Snape was going to tell him off for lack of decorum, but stopped himself.

"I'm just confused," said Harry after awhile. He gave a great sniff, and Snape realized he'd been crying. "Everyone seems to love me for something I can't remember, or hate me for it. Then, when I do something else, I get the same reaction, like I'm something in a zoo."

"Like what?" asked Dumbledore, calmly.

"Like when the Slytherins found out I could speak Parsletongue," said Harry. "Everyone just kind of stared at me."

"Children will do that," said Dumbledore in an understanding kind of voice.

"That boy, Rowle, he was really angry about it, though. That's what he said." Harry found himself speaking on automatic, feeling like he was on the outside looking in. "He said that I was going to 'just walk in, say a few funny words, and take over'," said Harry to his knees.

"I think we may have found the root of the problem," said Dumbledore, standing up again. "Let's go back to the Hospital Wing and we'll talk about it there."

Harry and Snape both stood up. Harry blinked slowly once more, but settled his head, and followed Dumbledore out of the office. Snape walked behind him with a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

The trip back to the Hospital Wing was uneventful, but by the time Harry got into bed, he was nearly asleep. The muscle relaxing potion fogged his brain.

"There we are," said Dumbledore smiling. He drew up two chairs for Snape and himself before sitting down primly. "I believe the problem lays with Gregory's accusation."

Snape considered this for a moment while Harry looked up at them from the bed, catching the barest threads of conversation.

"How do you mean?" asked Snape.

"Well, a Coping Drought holds off the effects of trauma so that one may recover, correct?"

Snape nodded.

"In Harry's case, the trauma is directly linked to his ability to speak Parsletongue. Therefore, one can infer that his method of coping is trying to bury the root of the problem. In this case, Harry was traumatized because he is a Parlsemouth. He is burying his ability to prevent further conflict. If he can't do it, no one will bother him about it," responded Dumbledore. "However, I'm sure that Harry's ability is so far ingrained that any attempts to bury it will be met with serious resistance."

"What an astute response. And how prompt. Perhaps we should endanger your students more often. Maybe then we'll get more direct answers from you," sneered Snape, back to his old self again now that it seemed Harry's problem had been weaseled out. However, it illicited a bad response from Dumbledore, who's eyes flashed.

"I'll thank you not to joke about that, Severus."

Snape flinched inwardly while his face remained impassive. "What will we do about it, then? If he copes naturally, he will be stuck speaking Parseltongue for the rest of his life."

"I think that perhaps some therapy is in order. Humans are, after all, social creatures. A potion might be able to fix things, but only using as much steam as one person has. A helping hand, however, can give so much more," said Dumbledore. "In the mean time, however, I believe you have a class to prepare?"

Snape nodded and stood up. "Thank you for clearing the matter." He turned to Harry to tell him to get some rest, but found he was already sleeping. He settled on a small smile before turning from the room and leaving with Dumbledore.

"The boy will have me gray or dead before the year is out, Albus," said Snape.

"Such is youth, Severus," smiled the old man, clapping Snape firmly on the back and walking back to his office. Snape watched the man go, disappointed at not having gotten the last word.

AN: WHERE HAVE I BEEN!?!?!? I DON'T KNOW! Sorry for the super late chapter, folks. I was suffering from total, unashamed laziness. Not writers block, just laziness. At one point I had the whole chapter written out, save for the last sentence, and I just put it away. For, like, a week. Sorry, folks, really am. I'll try to be more punctual with the next chapters. Also, my One Shot Horror will be up soon, look for it on my page. A hearty thanks to all my reviewers and the warm fuzzy feelings they provide me with, and a hug and squeeze for everyone who has pointed out stuff I needed to fix. To the Lurkers, may I offer a Smoke an'a pancake? Ta-Ta Fo' Now!


	17. Chapter 17, Freedom

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, even though I wish I did.

Chapter Seventeen: Freedom

Harry drummed his fingers on the small wooden writing slab that covered his lap. He wasn't allowed to be released until Madam Pomfrey found the right combination of potions to help with the shaking and not make him speak parsletongue. It was slow going.

In the mean time, the little bed had become Harry's personal area. It stood out from the rest of the hospital wing. The greatest contrast was the fact that the bedding was much nicer. Instead of sterile white sheets and scratchy cotton blankets, Harry had a down comforter that usually adorned the Slytherin beds in winter, when the dungeons often fell bellow zero. He had some decorations up, and books on his end table. The stack of get-well cards next to his bed seemed to grow every day, and it gave Harry a strange feeling to look at them. A kind of warm, twisting feeling in his gut.

Draco and Theodor came to visit every day, sometimes flanked by Crabbe and Goyle. Blaise didn't come as often, but he still popped in to say hello. They talked for as long as Madam Pomfrey allowed them, which wasn't always long because of his strict potion regiment. Doing his schoolwork was a real pain, because he didn't get practical instruction, just notes and some books, and, in the case of transfiguration or potions, items to transfigure and ingredients to mix.

He'd been in the Hospital wing a week longer than he should have been when Ron Weasley came by for a visit.

"Look at that, Potter," he said in an ill-mannered voice. "All set up nice and cozy. Going to stay here forever?" He sneered, but the look didn't suit him, and he looked kind of stupid.

"Sod off, if you don't mind," said Harry, in what he considered a well-refined voice, but his hand was clamped down on his wand, knuckles white.

"No, I'm fine here, thanks," said Ron. "Poor Harry Potter gets knocked around a little bit and has to spend a whole week and a half in the hospital wing? Pathetic."

Harry raised his wand to point between Ron's eyes, but before he got the chance to curse him into little greasy bits, the hospital wing door opened again, and two other boys came in. They had Ron's flaming hair, were a little on the short side, and were identical to the last spotty freckle.

"There you are," said one, as they looked at Ron. "Not causing trouble?"

Ron had his wand in his hand, but it wasn't yet pointed at Harry. Harry hadn't lowered his at all.

"What's going on here?" asked one twin, looking between them.

"Just saying 'hello'," said Ron, stuffing his wand in his robes.

"And he was just leaving," said Harry, not moving a bit, save for the tremor that coursed through his arm. He was on a low dose of muscle relaxant, but it wasn't a long term solution.

Ron turned to walk away, but both of the twins grabbed either of his arms. "I think we'll be having a talk about tact, what do you say, Fred?"

"Couldn't agree more, George. See you around, Harry," said the one named Fred, and with that, they frog matched Ron from the hospital wing. Harry covered a snort of laughter.

About an hour later, Fred and George returned, without Ron in tow.

"Sorry about that," said George. Or Fred. Harry couldn't tell.

"Yeah, Ron can be a bit of a ponce," said the other.

"And a git," said the first.

Harry watched the two back and forth like tennis partners and gave another laugh. "You're his brothers?" asked Harry. They both nodded, and spoke in unison.

"Fred and George Weasley, at your service. Third year trouble makers, extraordinaire."

Harry shook hands with them both, smiling thoroughly.

"You know, you're the first nice Gryffindors I've met," said Harry.

Fred and George gave identical grins.

"Nah, you're just the first Slytherin without his head up his arse."

Harry bit his tongue, decidedly not going to argue about Inter-house politics. They chatted back and forth for a little bit, Fred and George regaling Harry of past misdeeds while Harry told them about the orphanage.

"Why a Muggle Orphanage?" asked Fred, as harry had found out which was which, at least for now.

Harry shrugged. "Do they have Wizard Orphanages?"

George shrugged. "There aren't to many Wizard Orphans, are there? There's a ward-program in the Ministry, but I don't know about anything else."

Just then, Madam Pomfrey ushered the two out of the Hospital Wing so Harry could try a new batch of potions and rest.

Harry took a vail of hot pink liquid and looked at it dubiously.

"Best to drink it right away, deary," said Madam Pomfrey. "It stops working quick if you don't, and Professor Snape just made it."

Harry downed the liquid inside and looked himself over, a habit he had obtained since one of the first potions had turned him bright blue. With his skin colour still normal, he breathed a sigh of relief.

"Well, say something," said Madam Pomfrey, who hated when Harry spoke parslemouth, involuntary or not.

"Oh, er, something," said Harry, looking up at her.

"Well, that's something," she quipped, writing something on a clip board, then she ignited her wand and passed it back and forth in front of Harry's eyes.

"Very good," Madam Pomfrey muttered to herself.

"Does that mean I get to go?" asked Harry, excitedly. The Hospital Wing was dreadfully boring.

"We have to wait for the muscle relaxant to finish working, then, if the shaking doesn't return, and you're still speaking English, you may leave tomorrow, Merlin willing. Of course, you'll need to check in every day for the next week, to make sure you aren't regressing."

Harry nodded glumly.

"Buck up, Mr. Potter, we'll sort you out, and you'll be back with your friends soon enough." Madam Pomfrey placed a consoling hand on his shoulder, and then left him to his own devices.

Harry tried to pass the time reading, but a thought stuck in his mind. Snape had brewed these potions, as the potion master of the school. He had brewed them just for Harry. Harry allowed himself to go on that narcissistic train of thought for a little while, prodding himself with the knowledge that he brewed potions for all of the students in the hospital wing. However, the image of Snape huddled over a cauldron, mixing things left right and center with cool determination made Harry feel that warm twisting feeling again.

He wasn't sure when, but images turned to dreams, and he slept for a few hours. Madam Pomfrey came to check on him shortly thereafter. She took his pulse and checked his response to light without waking him, and went back to her office.

Harry awoke at first light in the morning. It was to dim to read, and surely Madam Pomfrey wasn't awake yet to discharge him, so he laid there, unable to return to sleep for what felt like forever. Like crept into the room slowly, and soon it was light enough to read, so Harry pulled out his potions book, and flipped through it, looking at all the potions he would brew. Maybe Snape could help him with the hard looking ones. There was that feeling again.

Harry guessed it was about six when Madam Pomfrey came out of her office. "Well, you aren't shaking, and the muscle relaxant has ran it's course. Say something in English, and we'll see you out of here to enjoy your day."

Harry smiled. "Can I go now?"

Madam Pomfrey laughed. "Very well, get going. I'll have the house elves clean up this lot and get it all back in order."

Harry swung his legs over the edge of the bed and climbed out, stretching as he did so. He pulled on a set of robes and straightened his glasses before turning and smiling at Madam Pomfrey. "Thanks," he said. "for getting me better."

"You should be thanking Professor Snape for that, Dear," said Madam Pomfrey, before shooing Harry out in mock annoyance. "Now go, you've been in here for nearly two weeks, Mr. Potter. And no running!" she called after him as he bolted to the door. She didn't feel like keeping him there another day to fix a nose and regrow teeth if he tripped.

Harry walked slowly to the door and grinned over hsi shoulder. She rolled her eyes. As soon as he was out of the Hospital wing, however, he took off at a dead sprint. He bounded down the stairs three at a time, racing towards the Great Hall.

Harry counted the days backwards in his head, trying to remember what day it was, and his heart lept when he realized it was Sunday, meaning he had the whole day to be outside and about.

Harry skidded to a halt at the door to the Great Hall. He didn't feel like making an entrance, so he pushed one of the doors open just enough to squeeze himself inside. The chatter inside didn't falter as he walked to his table, but a few heads turned. Harry kept his eyes down cast as he walked.

He made it to his table and was about to sit down when he was suddenly pulled into a tight hug. He yelped in surprise and saw that it was Theo. "Welcome back, Harry," he said.

Harry blushed. The smattering of chit chat that ran up and down the very reserved Slytherin table had stopped, and the other students looked up at them. Somewhere down the line, a girl snickered, and Theodor pulled away. "Well," he said, sitting back down. "Good to have you back."

Harry sat down between him and Draco. Draco patted him on the back. "Just can't help but to make a scene, can you?" Draco teased.

"Shut it," said Harry, feeling a mix of that squirmy feeling and embarrassment. Draco laughed, and poured him some pumpkin juice. "Come on, drink up. We'll go out and watch the giant squid later."

Harry laughed and took a sip of his pumpkin juice. He hadn't seen the squid, though he was fascinated by it already. He reached forward to get some toast, and no one stopped him or stole it away. Harry smiled and ate it slowly.

Snape came down from the teachers table to stand behind him. "Madam Pomfrey didn't tell me you were to be released today," he said.

Harry half-jumped, and turned to face his Head of House. "Oh, yes, well, she did," he said, rather lamely. "I have to check in every day for a week, though, and if I start shaking again, then I have to go back immediately."

Snape nodded. "Well, enjoy your day, Mr. Potter." With that, he turned to walk back to the teacher's table.

"Um, sir?" ventured Harry. Snape turned to look at him. "Thank you, you know, for making those potions."

Snape spared a brief smile. "Of course, Mr. Potter. Now, do eat something, you're skin and bones."

Harry smiled into his toast.

AN: Ok, so here's the 4-1-1 on the dealio, G homie sizzle. Word. Anyway, my internet connection is touch and go, so until I get it sorted out, updates might be a little infrequent. Anywho, here's a chapter for you.


	18. Chapter 18, The Lake

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, no matter how much I wih I did.

Chapter Eighteen, The Lake

After a large breakfast, Harry, Theodor, Blaise, Crabbe and Goyle walked down to the lake. Harry stared out at it's glassy surface for a few moments, as though expecting something to jump out at him. A light breeze rippled the surface, but that was all.

"We have to wait for it to warm up. It likes to bask," said Draco. He lead them over to a large beach tree that cast it's shadow out over the lake in the morning sun. It was still slightly chilly, an Harry had his scarf wrapped around his neck. It was only going to get colder, thought Harry, inwardly sighing.

"So did anyone else visit you? Or just us?" asked Theo.

"Oh, well, Weasley stopped by," said Harry, and Draco pulled a face.

"They let slime like that wander the castle? Eugh," said Draco, and Theo laughed.

"It was ok, apparently he's on a short leash," snickered Harry, "His two twin brothers showed up and dragged him off." Harry gave a dreamy kind of sigh, reflecting back on it, and Draco snorted.

"The twins? You mean the short, stocky ones?" asked Theo.

"Yeah," said Harry. Their names are Fred and George. They bill themselves as Pranksters Extraordinaire. Wouldn't want to get on their bad side, truth be told."

"What house are they in?" asked Draco. "Gryffendor, no doubt."

Harry nodded. "But, I mean, they aren't total twits, and they seemed kind of nice..." He trailed off at the look Draco shot him.

"They're Gryffendor's, Harry. The whole house is a bunch of bullies and arses who pretend like their 'noble' and 'brave.' All brawn, no brains. Besies, I bet they were only nice because, well, you're you."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" asked Harry, eyes narrowing.

"Oh, don't get offended," said Draco. "You know what I mean. People stare at you all the time. Surely someone in the school would try to kiss your arse."

Harry felt his shoulders droop. Was Draco right?

"Any homework left, Harry?" asked Theodor. Blaise looked like he were napping.

"No, I've finished it all. Really boring in that Hospital wing," said Harry, snapping out of his reverie.

"Even when we were around?" teased Theo, and Harry stuck out his tongue.

"You know what I mean. Besides, you weren't allowed in all that much."

"Just don't go turning into a Ravenclaw, what with all this "doing Homework," said Draco, ruffling Harry's already ruffled hair. Harry batted Draco's hand away and yawned. It was slowly turning into one of those sleepy days, and when the squid emerged, Harry felt it doubly so. Watching the giant thing below the waves, lazing about sluggishly, made Harry want to take a nap.

Through his sleep dredged mind, he realized that he wasn't being curious. "Goodnight," he said, to rectify that, and just as suddenly found himself using Theo's shoulder for a pillow.

Harry awake a an hour or two later or so later, when Draco shook him awake. "Come on, it's time for lunch," said the blond. Harry got uneasily to his leaden feet and used Draco and Theo to support himself. Blaise snickered as Harry nearly tripped over.

By the time they got into the Castle, Harry was more or less fully awake. The smell of food drew him onwards. He sat down, flanked by Draco and Theo, and they were flanked by Crabbe an Goyle.

"Are you my body guards?" half accused Harry. Draco shot him a winning smile.

"We don't want to lose you, mate." He gave Harry a one armed squeeze while the black haired boy blushed into his meal.

After a few minuets, Draco gave Harry a soft prod in the ribs. Harry, who had been focused on his meal an nothing else, gave a little jump."What is it, Draco?"

"It's Professor Snape," said Draco, nodding to the approaching figure of their Head of House. "Wonder what he wants."

"Ahh, there you are, Mr. Potter. I was wondering where you had gotten off to," said Snape as he drew level with their seats.

"We went down by the lake, sir, to watch the Giant Squid," explained Harry.

"Well, we watched it," said Draco, looking sideways at Harry. "He napped."

Harry stuck his tongue again.

"Pull that tongue back into your skull before I cut it off and use it in a potion," hissed Snape, who did not like his students, no matter how young, acting infantile.

"Sorry, sir," said Harry, blushing and ducking his head.

"No matter. I assume that, since you've been enjoying the day, you've got no homework?"

Harry shook his head. "It's all finished, sir," said Harry while Draco, Theo, Crabbe and Goyle all looked anywhere but at Snape.

"Well, if you have some free time, I'd like you to come by my office. I'll be there all day, so it doesn't matter when," replied Snape, who then turned on his heel and walked away.

Harry watched as Snape's billowing robes whipped out of sight around the door, and he turned to Draco. "Well, that's what he wanted. To be cryptic." He returned his attention to his meal while Draco and Theo talked around him.

Harry got in one more bite before his nagging sense of curiosity got the better of him. "I'd better figure out what Professor Snape wants sooner rather than later," he said, putting down his fork.

As Harry got up to leave, Draco asked, "Will you be alright? You know, by yourself?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "No one is going to jump out and attack me, Draco." He looked across the Hall to see Ron, wrapped up in his meal,a nd generally being a slob about it. "At least, no one I should worry about."

Draco and Theo snorted, and Harry waved goodbye to them, and exited the hall. He had his head down and he was walking quickly, lost in thought. What could Snape possibly want? To check up on him? He was so lost in thought that he walked headlong into someone. It took him a few seconds to realized that someone was a teacher.

A turban-headed teacher.

"M-Mr. P-p-p-potter, are you a-al-alright?" asked the be-turbaned Professor Quirrell.

"Er, yes sir. Sorry sir. I was just thinking. I'm on my way to Professor Snape's office sir." Harry explained this all very quickly, ducking his head and blushing in embarrassment. When he looked up, Quirrell was rubbing his stomach as though in a good deal of discomfort.

"Very sorry, sir," said Harry, looking down again.

"N-not a p-p-p-problem," stuttered Quirrell. "U-u-u-upset s-stomach. H-Hogwarts f-f-food, you kn-know." Quirrell gave a fleeting smile. "W-would y-you l-l-like to come u-up to m-m-my office f-f-for a m-m-moment?"

Harry thought about Snape waiting for him down in his office, but remembered he had just walked headlong into Quirril, and didn't want to seem rude. "Er, yes sir, I suppose."

AN: Dun-dun-dun! That's all for now, folks. I'll try and post more regularly, but no promises. Everything is still iffy with my internet.


	19. Chapter 19, Snakes

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, no matter how much I wish I did.

Chapter Nineteen: Snakes

Quirrell smiled slightly and motioned for Harry to follow him, and they set off down the halls. Harry felt the urge to keep his eyes averted from Quirrell, for whatever strange reason, and simply watched his feet. Residual embarrassment, he supposed.

Neither of them talked the entire way there, and it was only once they reached the door to the classroom did Quirrell pipe up. "A-after y-y-you Mr. P-P-Potter," he said, as graciously as possible, waving Harry inside. Harry gave a small smile and stepped around Quirrell and into the classroom. Aside from Professor Snape, Quirrell was the only teacher who had talked to him outside of class. He felt awkward.

"Sh-shame we d-didn't h-have you in h-h-h-here m-m-more," stuttered Quirrell. "Y-you m-m-missed a f-f-few p-practical lessons." Quirrell gave a nervous little titter, and motioned Harry up a flight of stairs that lead to his office. "W-we'll get y-you c-c-caught u-up, though."

Quirrell opened the door to the office and again motioned Harry to lead the way. "A-after y-you, M-Mr. P-P-Potter."

The office was very small compared to the classroom outside it. It was cluttered with bits of parchment, strewn hither and yawn. A few animal skeletons sat about on perches and stands. In the back of the room sat a great big cage, housing the biggest Iguana Harry had ever seen. Harry sidestepped a pile of books and found his way to a chair, which was thankfully empty of parchment, and so he sat down immediately.

Quirrell followed after him, smiling blithely. The turbaned professor sat behind the desk, and pulled out his wand. Harry gave a nervous flinch as Quirrell flicked it in his direction.

A tea kettle and two cups soared out from behind him and landed with a soft thump on the desk. Another casual flick set the kettle whistling. Harry watched all of this, intrigued and fascinated by how easy Quirrell had done these things. He was so enraptured, he didn't notice that Quirrell's eyes never left him. The same hungry look never wavered.

Snape settled into his chair, holding a few bound reams of parchment; The Potion Master's Paper. He flipped through it in a bored fashion. There was nothing of any great interest. Anything considered important wasn't to him, and everything else was just drivel anyway. He had thought, when the journal had arrived, of making Harry something of a test case. The thought was wiped completely out of his mind by a stab of utter revulsion. Not only was it immoral, but the boy hardly needed any more celebrity.

He didn't expect Harry to come in until much later. The boy would assuredly spend most of the day with his friends. Snape tossed the journal onto his desk, where it landed with a dull thump of finality. He rubbed his eyes tiredly, though he was wide awake. What had he gotten into, letting Harry just get into his house. School hadn't even been open a month, and already he'd been attacked. How much more was he going to have to endure.

Seemingly in response, his fire flashed green, and Dumbledore's voice floated out of the merry crackle. "Severus, come up to my office, if you would."

Snape wondered slightly at the fact that the old Headmaster's head was not in the fire, just his voice. Most unusual. "Yes, sir," said Snape, again rubbing his eyes. He'd just settled in. "I'm expecting Mr. Potter, though."

"That's what I need to speak to you about," said Dumbledore, and the fire returned to it's normal colour, cutting off any retort Snape had. He stood up and left his office in a huff. Dumbledore always had the last word.

Harry sipped his tea slowly. Quirrell had left his own untouched.

"H-h-how are y-you g-g-getting on?" asked Quirrell , a slight smile set on his face. It gave Harry the creeps for some reason. He was doing nothing but being friendly. Harry supposed he was just so used to Snape's scowl that he wasn't used to someone smiling.

"Oh, um, fine, sir," said Harry. "I'm doing much better now."

Quirrell nodded. "I-I-I how s-s-so, M-Mr. P-P-Potter." His smile never flickered. "H-how d-d-do you l-l-like it in S-S-Slytherin?"

Harry gave a noncommittal shrug, then remembered he was talking to a teacher, and sat up much straighter. "It's okay, sir."

Quirrell tilted his head forward. "N-no m-m-more t-tr-troubles?"

"No, sir." Harry gave a slight smile, which clouded over. "Well, not from the Slytherins." Quirrell raised one eyebrow, and motioned that Harry continue.

"Well, sir, the Gryffindors don't seem to like me very much. Not that I care what they think, but still..." Harry trailed off, running his finger around the rim of his half empty mug.

"H-h-house r-ri-rivalries," said Quirrell. "I-I rather e-ex-expect they w-w-were h-h-hoping y-you'd get s-s-sorted into G-Gryfendor."

"Where should I have gone, sir?" asked Harry, his brow knitted together. "I get gawked at no matter what."

"Y-yes, b-but S-S-Slytherin will t-teach y-y-you h-h-how to use it t-to your ad-advantage, Mr. Potter. You could become great, you know."

For the first time, Harry saw the look of hunger in Quirrill's eyes. It frightened him so much that he didn't even notice the Defense teacher's sudden lack of a stutter.

"I-I have to go, sir. Professor Snape is expecting me."

Before Quirrell could get another word in, Harry bolted from the room.

Snape arrived at the Headmaster's office in a few short minuets. He thought back, and scratched his chin. What was the password again? "Ah," he said aloud. "Liquorish Wand," he said promptly. The Gargoyle remained steadfast. "Damn."

"Ah, there you are, Severus," said Dumbledore, and Snape jumped. Much like the floo call, Snape could not see the old headmaster, and it unnerved him slightly. However, there was little mystery, as the Gargoyle then moved aside, and Dumbledore motioned for Snape to follow him back up to his office.

Snape rode the staircase up to the door, and walked in when Dumbledore opened it.

"Do take a seat, Severus," offered Dumbledore, moving to sit behind his desk.

"That was an interesting trick with the Floo earlier," said Snape, settling into a chair in front of the headmaster's desk.

"Oh, did you like that? A little invention of my own. Getting onto one's hands and knees can be very bothersome as one gets older."

"You have too much free time, old man," retorted Snape. "Don't you have a school to run?"

"Alas, my work is easily done, and I find myself growing bored from time to time. Forgive an old man his hobbies." Dumbledore's smile grew slightly. "Now, onto more pressing matters. I have it from Sir Cadagon-"

"That old nutter of a knight? The one that hangs on the third floor?" asked Snape, incredulous that the batty painting served any other purpose than to annoy people.

"The very same. I enlisted his help due to his uncanny knowledge of the layout of the Castle, but we're straying from the point. I have had him following Harry lately, as a nice set of eyes and ears. It just so happens that Quirrell has invited Harry to his office."

"Quirrell?" balked Snape. "The one you wanted me to keep an eye out for all bloody year so this exact thing wouldn't happen?"

Dumbledore nodded. "However, I think it is much too early for Voldemort to try anything. So soon after Harry's...incident..." Dumbledore's eyes lost their twinkle. "This would put to much strain on his plans."

"But, what does he mean to do, then, if not attack him?" asked Snape, clearly disgusted for the Headmaster's seeming omnipotence. That, or his seeming total disregard for the safety of the students based on a guess.

"Well, given his House..." began Dumbledore, cautiously.

Snape realized where the conversation was going, and jumped to his feet. "You!" he snarled, unable to find words for his contempt. To his immense satisfaction, Dumbledore flinched. Snape was glad that the old man couldn't read his mind.

"How _dare_ you presume that just because he is in my House that he might get drawn in by Quirrell!" shouted Snape, and he had a sudden urge to leap over the desk and throttle the old man. "You refuse to know Potter on any sort of level. To you he's just another _Slytherin_, isn't he? Another green and silver tie? You wouldn't be this presumptuous if he was in Gryffindor, would you? Even a Hufflepuff or a Ravenclaw would be fine, but no, he's a Slyterhin, and there goes all respect, doesn't it?"

Dumbledore's jaw was set, and his eyes refused their twinkle in favor of a hard glare. "Severus," he said, his voice no louder than it had been, but it had an edge to it that raised the fine hair on the back of Snape's neck. "Sit down."

Snape sat as though impurioused. He continued to glare at the old man.

"I will not have you raging and storming at me in my office," said Dumbledore, his eyes flashing. Especially about the welfare and treatment of my students."

Snape snorted derisively. "Welfare and treatment? This year alone he was beaten half to death by another student. Hardly fitting welfare. As for treatment, I saw your smile drop when the sorting hat called out his House. Don't pretend for an instant that you expected him to end up there, or that wouldn't have preferred him a Gryffindor."

Dumbledore stopped looking as furious, and more like very tired old man. He opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by a sudden commotion. Sir Cadagon bustled, clanking, into a large picture frame leaning against the wall, huffing and puffing, and holding a stitch in his side through his armor.

"Headmaster," he wheezed. "The young Mr. Potter has just left Professor Quirrell's office. He looked rather frightened."

Without another word, Snape stood up and left the room. He would listen to Dumbledore's feeble apologies or accusations later. Right now, one of his Snakes was in distress.

Dumbledore watched him go with a frown.

AN: Ok, here it is, the long awaited next chapter in the fic. This is getting rather lengthy, I must say. Much farther than I thought it would get, anyway. Well, cheers, I suppose. Working on the next chapter already.


	20. Chapter 20, Therapy

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, no matter how much I wish I did.

Chapter Twenty: Therapy

Snape took the long way to his office, past Quirril's classroom. Caddagon had seen Harry leaving, and in a hurry, so it was probable that he had been frightened away by the two-faced coward. That would make Snape's job of keeping the two separated easier.

He didn't see Harry through the upper levels of the Castle, and rushed off to the Dungeons. He spotted Draco and Theodor leaving the Great Hall and stopped them.

"Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Nott, have you seen Mr. Potter?" he asked them. Something like fear must have registered on his face, because the boys looked taken aback and fearful themselves. He composed himself better, and tried his best to look expectant.

"No, sir, not since he said he was going to see what you needed," answered a frightened looking Nott. "Did he not show up?"

"No, but it's of no concern," said Snape calmly. "I was just wondering. Enjoy your day."

He about faced and strode away, cloak billowing out behind him. Draco and Theodor shared a quick look.

Harry sat in the Common Room, staring at the fire. Despite the very rare warm day they had experienced, especially this close to Halloween, it was still freezing cold in the Dungeons. Harry's breath rose out of his mouth in great foggy clouds that dissipated into the air.

He was the only one there, everyone else abandoning the freezing dungeon for the warmed grounds.

_You could be great, you know._

The words bounced around his skull like a church bell's chime, deep and resonating, echoing the empty spaces and leaving him a little dazed.

"I don't want to be great," he said aloud

_"_That's all well and good, but could you please not run off like that."

Harry jumped out of his seat as though stuck with a poker. He expected...well, he didn't really expect it to be anyone. Quirril, maybe, but he didn't know the password to the Common Room. Instead he found Snape standing behind the chair.

"Sorry, sir," said Harry, putting his hand over his chest to make sure his heart was still there and not where he thought it was; somewhere in his throat.

"Don't bother," said Snape. "I believe you were looking for me?"

Harry nodded. "I went to your office, but you weren't there."

"Well, then I think now would be a good time to go, don't you?" asked Snape, quirking a brow and motioning that Harry start walking. Harry got up and walked to the door.

"Sir," he started, turning back to Snape, who stopped short behind him.

"Yes, Mr. Potter?" asked Snape.

"I, um, I ran into Professor Quirrill. He seemed kind of... odd," said Harry, bowing his head to hide his blush. He didn't like speaking ill of anyone.

"I wanted to talk to you about that, as well," said Snape, giving Harry a gentle push on the back, out the door.

Once in Snape's office, both comfortably seated, Snape steepled his fingers and examined Harry over them. Harry looked away, trying to loose his Head of House's gaze.

"Would you like some tea, Mr. Potter?" asked Snape, and Harry nodded.

Snape flicked his wand, and tea began brewing itself, before pouring itself into two cups. Harry, sickeningly reminded of his brief yet unsettling time with Quirrill, let his sit.

"I'm not sure how to broach the subject, Mr. Potter," began Snape, looking highly out of his element and very awkward. "The Headmaster has asked that you and sit down every so often, and talk. He thinks it will help you to get over the... trauma of past events."

Harry chewed on his lip for a moment, and resisted pulling his knees up to his chest. It was a habit which he knew Snape despised, though he did not know why. "Sir, don't the potions... I mean, you've done so much already... Why do we," he tried to speak, but instead went back to chewing his lip.

"The potions will not help forever, Mr. Potter. They are only temporary. You will grow immune to their effects, and you will begin to speak Parsle Tongue again unless we work out some of your issues. Furthermore, I believe it would be best to hold these little meetings to help you adjust. You're obviously not fitting in very well, and I-" Snape trailed off as Harry blushed deeply.

"I-I don't mean to not fit in, sir," said Harry, looking determinedly away again.

"I didn't mean that," said Snape, trying to keep the aggravation out of his voice. The boy could be rather sensitive at times to the slightest things. Snape had lived too long as a stoic to register much empathy, though he tried. "I mean that you will find it much harder to fit in with this crowd, and I will try to help. If you let me."

Harry nodded, and for the first time, looked Snape in the eye. "How can you, though?" he asked. "You can't make them like me."

"I know, but if you ever need to talk about bullying or something of the like, I am here to listen. Now, we've spent much too much time already talking about why we should be talking. What is on your mind, Harry?"

Harry blushed again at the sound of his first name, and chewed his lip some more. He thought about what to say for a few minutes, which passed by in total silence. Snape was about to prompt him, when he opened his mouth.

"I asked the sorting hat to put me where I could to the best. Do the most good. Why did I come here, if everyone is against me?"

Snape was a bit taken aback by the rational thought, and realized that this would be far closer to the heart than he had expected. He nearly found himself feeling in over his head before remembering that he'd spied on the most dangerous man of the later half of the century for the better part of a year.

"Sometimes," said Snape with all the caution of walking on egg shells, "Adversity can bring out the best in us." He hated to paraphrase the old man, but it was true.

For a long time, Harry sat motionless and silent. His bottle green eyes steadied and counting the knot-marks in Snape's desk. When he spoke, his voice was apprehensive.

"What do you do?"

Snape studied the boy in front of him, not understanding. "What do you mean?" he asked, tilting his head forward.

"You're always so calm, nothing ever gets to you." His voice raised slightly, and he hunched over, clenching his fists on his knees. "Why can't I be like you?" his asked, nearly shouting.

Snape calmly stood up and walked around his desk. He knelled in front of Harry and set his hands on his shoulders. "Harry, please calm down." His voice was gentle, but there was no room for argument.

Harry relaxed, but he didn't look up. "I'm sorry, sir."

"Don't be," said Snape, shaking his head. "I see a lot of your father in you, Harry," he said like swallowing a pickling potion. "A need to be important." He didn't want to say what he thought, which was a need to show off. "For everyone, that's a different need."

"What do you mean, sir?" Harry asked, finally looking up. His cheeks were wet with tears.

"I mean that saving people makes Healers feel important. Making people smarter makes professors feel important. What makes you feel important?"

Harry shrugged. "When I was at Cole's, I guess I felt important when I was helping out. You know, cooking and taking care of the younger kids."

"Helping the adults," surmised Snape, and Harry nodded. "Then you feel important when you feel grown up, right?" Harry shrugged and nodded again.

"Yeah, I guess."

Snape stood up, and motioned for Harry to stand as well. "I think we should go see the headmaster."

AN: So very very sorry about the late update. I know it's been months, but real life has been hellish lately. Updates should come sooner after this, and again, I apologize for being so late. Keep on livin' la vida loca folks.


	21. Chapter 21, Occlumency

Disclaimer; I do not own Harry Potter, though I wish I did. It's Rowling's world, I'm just playing in it.

Chapter 21, Occlumency

The hearth in Dumbledore's office flared to life. The old man was hunched over a letter from the Minister who was, as usual, pleading for help. He looked up as Snape and Harry marched from the fireplace, dusting themselves off.

"Severus, Mr. Potter. What an unexpected visit." Dumbledore's eyes peered at them over his half-moon glasses.

"Not unwelcome, I hope," said Snape with a wave of his hand, motioning at the letter before the wizened headmaster.

"Not at all. Please, take a seat."

Snape sat and cleared his throat. Harry, who had been in his own little world, staring at the many delicate things tinkering away in Dumbledore's office, snapped back and took a seat. His face was burning.

"What brings you here, Severus?" asked Dumbledore. "Shouldn't you be preparing for your Monday classes?"

"I've prepared the first few months in advance," said Snape, sitting back and crossing his arms. "I don't leave the future to chance. You should know that."

"Of course," said Dumbledore. "In any event, I think we have not been discussing what it is you came to discuss."

"Obviously, Mr. Potter here does not pertain to my teaching schedule. I've come to get your advice. You know more about arcane magic then I do."

"Arcane magic?" asked Dumbledore, his bushy white eyebrows touching the brim of his hat.

"I want to know how occlumency would interact with Mr. Potter's current predicament. This isn't something that is done every day and I-"

"Occlumency ?" asked Dumbledore, cutting Snape short. "He's just a boy, Severus. What could he gain?"

Harry scowled and looked away from Dumbledore. Snape, feeling rather snubbed by by the old man, chastised Harry nonetheless. "Be respectful, Mr. Potter."

"Sorry," Harry spoke for the first time, averting his eyes.

Snape didn't respond to Dumbledore right away, and found it difficult to put his first session with Harry into words. Instead he turned his gaze to Dumbledore and let flow the memories. Dumbledore shut his eyes as the last of the memory, abridged for time, flowed through his mind.

"Severus," he said, quite uncertainly. "Do you really expect him to understand the methods for training? And even so, at such a young age, it would ruin him!"

"I learned young, and I am not damaged." Snape's voice was turning icy.

"Your circumstances were different," said Dumbledore.

Snape flinched as if struck. Images wheeled in his mind of an older man shouting and throwing things about the house. A woman cowered against the wall, and he, just a boy, huddled in his room, hands over his ears, trying to shut it all out.

Looking as if he were going to be ill, Snape stood and swept Harry up as well, turning him back to the Floo. "Not so different," he shot over his shoulder, sending the mental image of Harry, battered from his encounter, along with the remark.

The hearth flared again, and Snape disappeared along with Harry. Dumbledore rubbed his brow and returned to the letter, ignoring it completely.

Snape and Harry returned to the former's office, stepping quickly to avoid getting caught in the non-magical fire already lit. Snape sat back at his desk, clasping his hands before him and resting his forehead on them.

"Sir?" asked harry, sitting back down, very confused. "What was, um, all that?" He motioned at the fireplace.

Snape inhaled slowly, regaining his composure. "Nothing important." He studied Harry for a long while, before sitting back in his chair and shaking his head. "I don't need the old fool's second opinion."

Harry bit his lip to stop from laughing at Snape calling Dumbledore an 'Old fool'.

Snape thought for a few moments and rubbed his temples. "Who care's what he thinks? "

The hearth glowed green and Dumbledore stepped out of the fireplace. "Quite a lot of people, Severus," he said smiling blithely.

Snape looked like he wanted to toss the old man bodily from the room. "I have asked your opinion, and you have given it. There is no more need for you here."

Dumbledore took a moment to calm himself before sitting next to Harry. Harry wormed in his seat, quite uncomfortable.

"On the contrary, this is a student matter, and I take it with all due seriousness. Mr. Potter would not benefit from occlumency , there's simply no reason for it. If he wants to be more adult, stioicsism would not be what he needs."

"That's only half of the argument," said Snape, sitting behind his desk and looking very tired. "The level of mental control that occlumency would afford him may be able to subvert the damage done."

Harry busied himself with examining the many pickled and bottled things lining the walls of Snape's office. He felt like a third wheel, but didn't want to interject. He had lost all thread of the conversation until Dumbledore turned to him and asked, "Well, what do you think, Mr. Potter?"

"Oh, um, I dunno," said Harry sheepishly. "I don't really know what you're talking about, I mean, sir," he added, looking down.

"I wouldn't expect you to, Mr. Potter," said Dumbledore. "Occlumency is a very obscure branch of magic, certainly not one we teach here regularly."

"Have you heard of Meditation, Harry?" asked Snape, ignoring Dumbledore.

Harry thought for a moment, and shook his head. "I don't think so, sir."

Snape tapped his fingers for a second before continuing. "It is the practice of obtaining mental control by shutting out emotions and the physical world. In a way, this is the same as occlumency . It will allow you to reign in your emotions whenever you feel things are going out of control. You would be able to make more rational decisions under duress. The biggest advantage of Occulomency, for Wizards, in any rate, is that you will be able to shut others out of your mind. Perhaps, you can shut out whatever is making you speak parsletounge."

"I hadn't thought of it like that," said Dumbledore, who was thoroughly ignored.

"But, if it'll help, then what's the problem?" Harry asked, looking, for the first time in a long time, very hopeful and excited. "Sir," he added, bowing his head and blushing.

"Well," said Snape, rubbing his chin. "It may make you a stranger to your peers. Practicing occlumency would make you less like your friends. The longer you do it, the harder it is to find emotion at all. Laughing becomes harder, and sometimes nearly impossible. You would eventually become removed, totally, from your emotions. It has never been practiced by anyone younger than fourteen. And your case makes this especially strange. I don't know how the trauma would interact with your training."

Harry sat back to digest all this and Dumbledore, perhaps sensing the humor in his situation (Being treated like a misbehaved student by Snape) raised his hand to speak. Snape regarded him with a cold look but inclined his head, indicating that he was no-longer ignoring the Headmaster.

"It may be possible that occlumency in it's truest form may be, as the Muggles say, over-kill, Severus," he said plainly. "Perhaps a lighter version could be used in Mr. Potter's case. Something more akin to the discussed Meditation. This way, Mr. Potter would not lose himself to stoicism, and could still manage his mind."

Snape rubbed his goatee'd chin in thought. Perhaps it was as simple as that. Suddenly, he felt guilty. Why had he railed so hard against Dumbledore? Maybe, he thought, feeling as thought a lead weight were settling in his stomach, he wanted Harry to be more like himself and less like his father. He rested his elbows on his desk and his head in his hands, trying to figure it all out. Finally, he sat up and looked at the boy with green eyes and decided.

"I suppose that is a good compromise," he said, the word sounding foreign to his own ears. "I will have to devise a new training method instead of the current one, though, and that may take some time."

Harry chewed on his lip, but didn't speak. It was nagging at him that he hadn't even been asked if this was the course he would wish to peruse. As though his mind had been read, and it had, Dumbledore turned to him, smiling.

"So, Mr. Potter," he said, crossing his legs like a man about to discuss business. "Does this sound agreeable to you?"

Harry sat for lack of words for a moment and suddenly realized that it did sound good to him. His only objection had been that no one was consulting him about it.

"Oh, er, yes, sir," he said, blushing and looking down.

"Well, that settles it, Severus," said Dumbledore standing and turning to the fireplace. "If you'll excuse me, I have to reply to the letter Minister Fudge has sent me. The poor man is at his wit's end. I also need to arrange the Halloween feast." He said this last bit with a twinkling in his eyes, directing it at Snape.

Snape's face twisted into a small scowl. Dumbledore knew he hated Halloween.

AN: HOLY HECK! Where have I been? I dunno! Do you know? It's been too long, folks, and I'm sure you'll agree. HOPEFULLY, this chapter has met your quality demands and reading needs. It's been rewritten no less than forty times. I am not joking. Forty freaking times. 'Bout drove me insane, but here it is at long last. So, you all can drop your Pitch-forks and Map-Quest directions. Updates may be spotty, but I really don't think it will be too long between them. Give me an Inch and I take a couple of Light-years. And maybe a Parsec or two.


End file.
